Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You left your friend to die in a fucking sewer.” Yennifer spat through her teeth.

Her black hair, covered in gods knew what, clung to her cheeks. Her robes as well had been stained and darkened by the sewers water and now heavy with putrid water clung to her, freezing even now inside and sheltered from the bitter night wind. Even her cloak, once a rick purple, was now stales a putrid brown with muck.

The old elf man shuffled in his seat trying to rub a bit of warmth into his arms from the cold night air. He didn’t even look at her. Like her, his robes were stained and left with little of the original green colour they held onto in patches.

“You ran.” She continued in disgust.

In the darkness of the Taverns back room the man looked from beneath his limp grey hair around at the others huddled in groups, in corners, in the shadows. There were about a dozen or so elves like him with sharp pointed ears, of all different ages but all wearing the same far away look and a glaze to their eyes of tiredness and need of food. He looked to them for some support but most avoided his gaze.

“I – I– I took the only option I had.” He pleaded. Then with a shake of his head he dug into his excuse. “He would have done the same. I had to save myself”

The old man grumbled and crossed his arms. But didn’t dare look Yennefer in the eye.
For a moment Yennefer felt a rage boiling inside her; The selfishness. The injustice. It should have been the old man who died. The coward didn’t deserve to live after running away in the decrepit Elven aqueducts. She had bumped into the old Man, and the younger elf, Dermain, when she had fled with Cahir through the stone and iron labyrinth that sprawled beneath Oxenhurt, but despite fleeing the danger of the guards above they hadn’t expected the dangers that had lurked below. She could still see the poor boys face, Dermain, twisted in shock, then fear, as whatever that thing was dragged him down into the depths below. He had vanished in a heartbeat. He had been so young.

“You’re not worth it.” She ground the words through her teeth.

With almost a sigh Yennefer buried that anger deep within and turned back to the other end of the room to wait with Cahir near the door where he shuffled and fidgeted.

Cahir hadn’t fared much better in the Aqueducts than Yennefer, after having escaped almost being drowned by whatever creature lurked down there. But still the same disgusting, filth ridden water dripped from the hems of his green cloak and left a track of puddles from his boots. His own blonde hair and beard told a similar tale of needing a good wash.

“What’s going on.” Cahir asked, moving past Yennefer to the centre of the room.

“We have to wait for the place to empty.” The man who had ushered them in but a few minutes earlier answered.

The man was also an elf, but dressed much more finely than the others; he wore a red shirt with gold trimmings down the middle much like his green cloak. He also wore a necklace with glass beads and a fine leather studded belt.

“Then the piper.” The man nodded his head through an empty doorway, which likely led up to the tavern above them. “Will take us to the boat.

“The Sandpiper.” Yennefer strode over.

“That’s the one. He performs here every night.”

“And the Phoenix?”

“Her too. She’ll be the one to take us to safe spots before we get to the boat.”

Casting her head up to the single lantern above her, Yennefer finally noticed the music seeping down to them all hiding in the cellar, and the voice that accompanied it.

As I burn all the memories of you

Her heart fluttered with joy(?), a flutter of hope she didn’t dare let herself have just yet. Pushing Cahir out of the way she moved further across the room, closer to the centre of the room and the tavern floor above so she could hear better but keeping her stride slow and steady. She wouldn’t let herself believe it just yet. She focused on the world ot of sight above and strained her ears to pick through the rabble and noise of customers, and people stomping their feet upon the floor boards, desperate to hear that voice again dripping through the gaps.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The familiar voice continued above. “You have been the most beautiful audience. Remember to toss a coin if you can.”

The patrons above groaned humorously, and while Yennefer stifled a chuckle she let herself believe and smiled. Finally, someone who wouldn’t try to stab her on sight.

“What’s so funny?” The man asked with a frown.

“Nothing.” Yennefer dismissed him without even a glance, and smiling still said. “Just an old friend.”

Letting herself have at least a few moments to relax she listened to him sing. The silly bard shouting on, and on about a butcher, burning memories, and yearning for something. Another chuckle escaped her, this time one of pity knowing the bard still clearly wore his heart proudly on his sleeve. She removed her cloak from her shoulder and after finding a bucket nearby began to try and wring out what she could from it. If it couldn’t be clean it could at least be dry.

Muttering to her self as she twisted the cloak, she asked “Now, who do you suppose the bard’s crying for?”

Above her she heard the sounds of boot steps of Jaskier as he strode around the tavern. She could easily picture the smile on his face as he drank in the applause on his lap around the room, feasting upon the cheers of the crowd around him on his journey back to his position on the main stage where he waited for a moments calm.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen.” As Jaskier Declared, Yennefer could almost hear his twirl and flourish, almost hear the wide grin on his face pulling the crowd into an intoxicating merriment. “I have a new song for all as a little treat. Now I cant claim sole responsibility for this, some of the credit I must award to my companion here; Red. Give her a round of applause everybody!”

Yennefer paused mid twist of the hem on her dress in mild surprise, even a small amount of shock. The Jaskier she knew wasn’t one to share limelight easily so whoever the ‘red’ person was, she had clearly left an impression upon the bard. Yennefer resumed draining what she could from her dress with a renewed smile as she could only imagine just what exactly the other woman had done to her sweet little bard.

She listened to the crowd cheer as a chair scraped backward, possibly this Red taking a cheeky bow, and then the crowd simmered down to the usual chatter and murmur of a busy tavern.

Jaskier cleared his throat loudly, calling the crowd into a tense and hushed near silence. Then, he began to strum four notes on his lute, running them up and down, up and down, up and down. Another musician with drums tapped fast and steady. And then Jaskier began to sing…

When you speak I hear silence

Every word a defiance

I can hear, oh, I can hear

Think I'll go where it suits me

Moving out to the Country

With everyone, oh, everyone

Before we all become one

You tell yourself that you're lucky

But lying down never struck me

As something fun, oh, any fun

Stabbing pain for the feeling

Now your wound's never healing

'Til you're numb, oh, it's begun

Before we all become one

Oh we all, we all become one

Oh we all, we all become one

Oh we all, we all become one

Oh we all, we all become one

Stop grieving, start leaving

Before we all become one

Run

Oh we all, we all become

“He has a good set of lungs on him. I’ll give him that.” The deep wispy tone filled her mind, but her ears never heard it, never heard the smile she recognised in the voice.

Red smiled into the cup, the amber liquid reflecting her face with blue eyes and radiant red hair cut roughly at shoulder length, back up at her. She took another swig of her drink and her eyes watered at the sickly sweet taste of it. At least it was drinkable however, and unlike the water it wasn’t going to make her violently ill beyond possibly a mild hangover.

A little message popped up in her vision informing her she was, in fact, slightly intoxicated and should seek either some food, something to drink, or begin an anti-toxin routine. With a thought she set the program to begin and with it came a clarity she hadn’t realised had started to fade. She pushed the tankard away from her for the minute in minor shock.

She was going to need her wits about her today. Even after the late evening last night with Jaskiers performance, the pair of them had a job to do, and people below who were counting on her to help get them somewhere safe. She could hear Jaskier behind her busying himself by gathering his things and spreading them out across a table, making checks, double checks, and even triple checks of their gear, and chatting happily to the barmaid whose gaze he had kept all night long. He knew far more to this travel work than she did and so left him to it.

“But I don’t think he gives it quite the same feel as you do.” The voice continued in her head. That voice she used to love to hear purring against her neck.

Red chuckled and looked over to her lover, resting her chin on her hand in just the way she knew he like.

He sat next to her, her infamous Mr. Nobody, her confidante, her body guard, her best friend, her boxing partner, her Blue. She couldn’t imagine going anywhere without him. He resembled a large broadsword. He was, in a sense, The Transistor with the blade point downward and the handle propped up against the bench Red sat astride. The Transistor was wrapped in a leather sheath that left only the large red ‘eye’ in the centre of the blade exposed so he could see the world. The pair had found it better this way to avoid at least some wondering gazes and keep a low profile.

Red arched an eyebrow at him.

“What?” Blue tried to sound offended but that smile could still be heard, even if she couldn’t see it. “Am I not allowed to have preferences?”

Red rolled her eyes but, with love, leaned forward in her seat and began to hum a tune for him, and only him, so that only he could hear. As Blue purred with content and it almost felt like old times; just Her, and him, in a bar the morning after a performance. Even some random drunkard being thrown bodily out the front door by the owner. Despite how much had changed, Red felt like she was almost there again…

“Bard.” A woman's voice broke the spell.

Red looked over to see a woman in a purple cloak standing near the fire, staring with a look of contempt at Jaskier. Jaskier for his part, when Red looked over, wore a look of equal surprise before quickly glaring at the intruder with contempt.

“Witch.” Jaskier Spat.

“This looks like trouble.”

Red jerked her head at the barmaid, toward another door, a quick signal for her to get out in case things got hairy. The barmaid nodded and calmly, but quickly, stepped out of the room. Red could hear her footsteps disappear out the door behind her and then up the stairs. Pulling herself up off the bench, Red grabbed the hilt of the Transistor as she moved forward. Until a wall of overpowering stench smashed into her. It was a mix of sickeningly sweet, overpoweringly sour, and frankly smelled really, really bad and punched the back of her throat like a freight train. Once again she wished she had downloaded more programs to her NIRV.

“What are you doing here?” Jaskier stepped back and lazily against the post next to him. But red could hear the slight twinge of fear in his voice even slightly dulled by drink, the woman scared him. “And what the fresh hell did you crawl out of?”

“A sewer.” The woman stepped forward with her chin held high. “What’s your excuse?”

Turn()

Red was between them, just in front of Jaskier, and with the Transistor prepped and ready pointing downward by her side in it’s leather wrappings. She was almost pleased to see the woman startle slightly at her speed. Even being slightly shorter than her, Red locked eyes with the woman. Hopefully the woman couldn’t tell how hard red was trying not to gag on the smell

“Yeah, you watch yourself witch.” Jaskier chided smugly from behind her, as if HE were the one threatening the woman. “I always knew you were a blood-sucking, joyless, hag of a leech. So what made you crawl out of your hole this time?”

For a beat the woman locked her gaze with Jaskier with a stony gaze filled with frozen hate. Her eyes drifting down from Jaskier to Reds, and then back over to Jaskier again. And then everything melted off her in rolls with a long, tiredness that almost crashed to the floor falling from her shoulders with a drawn out sigh. The stoic and guarded look on her face faded and she suddenly looked so, so very tired. Worn out, even.

Taking a step back she said with a defeated tone. “I was actually going to give you a hug, you prick.”

Red blinked rapidly in surprise. She turned to give Jaskier a questioning look and Jaskier simply shrugged back.

“A…a hug?” Jaskier stuttered with all anger gone. “You were going to give me a hug? You? A hug? Me?”

The woman scratched her eyebrow clearly exasperated. “Oh gods, I miss the days when my biggest problem was an ever-present, sing-songy twit.”

Red looked at the woman, then turned to look back at Jaskier wondering just what she was supposed to do.

Jaskier gawped like a goldfish at Red, then at the woman.

“Well, this is a nice change of pace. Eh Red?.” Blue commented from her side. “For once no one trying to kill Jaskier on sight, or sound.”

“Uh, drink? I'm gonna drink.” Jaskier smartly suggested, jumping around past Red and the woman on his way to the bar. “I am not having this conversation unless I’m drinking.”

Red watched him go and the Woman smiled. It was then Red noticed her eyes were a blazing shade of violet. And when the woman shot her a weak smile they almost shined. She couldn’t help but raise and eyebrow at the sight, and tilt her head slightly in wonder. She supposed that if magic was real then different coloured eyes weren’t all too impressive.

“Old friends.” She explained, misinterpreting Reds expression.

Red simply nodded politely and followed the woman over towards the bar past the roaring fireplace. She didn’t dare open her mouth just yet until she either got used to the smell or her stomach stopped trying to escape. Whichever came first.

“Friends!? Hah!” Jaskier barked. “You were the bane of my existence, and a fine piece of work to boot.”

“And you couldn’t hold a tune.” The woman; Yennefer, simply smiled like she was remembering a fond memory. “But that never shut you up though.”

“Oh! Red, the she-hag before you is Yennefer.” had already pulled out three mugs for them from the shelf and had laid them onto the bar. “Yennefer, this is Red. My Bodyguard.” Jaskier politely introduced the pair to each other at the end of bottle. He read the label, then placed it back on the shelf with a disgusted look and continued his hunt.

“Oh I see, she’s THAT Yennefer.” Blue clicked his tongue. “Now I get it. She’s not as scary or as angry as he described her. But still we had better be on our guard, Red. Just in case.”

The women shared a polite smile as they stood beside each other.

“Red? I see because of the hair and everything.” Yennefer pointed to her own black hair. “I hope he’s paying you enough given how much trouble this twit gets himself into.” Jaskier pulled a face at her.

Red wrinkled her nose and tilted her head side to side, making the same motion with her hand. ‘So-so’. .

“Well, that’s something at least.” Yennefer let out a chuckle, before suddenly finding the surface of the bar very fascinating for a moment. “I heard the song. Geralt must have left a bad taste in your mouth.”

Red politely tried not to listen to Yennefer and Jaskier talk. She turned away to give them a little bit of privacy as they discussed and caught up. But Blue however…

“Oh … she knows the famous Geralt?” Mr. Nobody chuckled as Jaskier tried to defend himself. “Sorry Jaskier but drunkenly crying over him doesn’t exactly scream being ‘over it’.”

Trying to ignore his comments, Red grabbed her drink after Jaskier had poured the clear contents of a bottle he had chosen into it and took a swig. She promptly spat it back into the mug. The drink was vile, disgusting, utterly repulsive. It tasted like an over-sweet cider trying hard to be a whisky and burnt with a violent vengeance all over her tongue and even to the back of her throat.

Red turned back to warn the other two but…too late. Jaskier grimaced, and beside her Yennefer made a disgusted noise.

“By the Gods, that is awful.” Jaskier practically shrivelled up under the assault upon his taste buds. “Red, why didn’t you warn us? That’s it, I’m docking your pay for this.”

Red opened and closed her mouth at the end of Jaskiers finger, silently trying to protest against the injustice.

“And I am going to find anything else to drink.” He continued ignoring her, as he dashed from behind the bar on the hunt for a different bottle. “Whilst you tell me why the hell your sad arse is here.

“You’re the Sandpiper.” Yennefer declared, and then to Red. “And you’re his Pheonix.”

“What? No. Yes. No.” He ate his leg, along with his foot looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and holding onto the new bottle he had found for dear life.

Red barely had the moment to gasp before Jaskier spilled the beans. She simply covered her eyes and turned away, hoping for the moment to end quickly. “Nice going Champ.”

“How do you know that name?”

Yennefer took another swig of her vile drink. “You pick up a thing or two when you’re in hiding.”

“You’re in hiding?”

Red pulled herself out of hiding from behind her hands and spun around so she could face the both of them. Yennefer looked to be gazing somewhere past Jaskier, who was standing by an open cabinet having found another bottle to drink. His lip had curled up in thought and then dropped when a horrible realisation dawned on him. Red didn’t have to wait long to be told why.

“Because…you're part elf.” Horror seeped into his voice. “Yennefer, I completely forgot. I’m so sorry.”

Red gasped and looked at Yennefer with new found pity. Even Blue uttered a soft ‘oh’ at the news and the horrifying ramifications. She recalled lines of Elves being pulled by rope, shackled, beaten, and broken through the streets and much worse on darker nights, and even brighter days. She saw the looks of fear and desperation of those they had managed to save over these long weeks, months even.

Red could see it now, when Yennefer shot her gaze to the floor, how her ears were pointed ever so gently at the top. And, of course, those brilliant violet eyes. It wasn’t much but when people look for enemies they’d use any smallest thing as an excuse to commit horrid atrocities. Red even bet that Yennefer's beautiful violet eyes would be reason enough to harm her.

Red went to rest her hand on Yennefers arm in comfort. But yennefer pulled it away. Which was fair enough; Red was a stranger to Yennefer as she was to Red so it wasn’t her place to offer such comfort. She respectfully pulled back her hand and instead, seeking something to do with it, held her mug again.

“I would not wish that fate on my worst enemy.” Jaskier leaning on a post tried to offer his own words of comfort. “And yes, you are firmly lodged in that category, it has to be said but…what they have done to you and your people is...”

Yennefer looked up at Jaskier as he spoke. Her violet eyes locked with his blue. He struggled, flexing his jaw to try and find the word or even any word to encompass what was happening in this world.

“Unspeakable.” He found a word. It wasn’t good enough but it was all he had.

Yennefer let out a small breath that could have been a sigh or weak laugh. Her hands shook slightly around the tankard and she clenched them hard to still them.

Jaskier opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then he stopped. He looked around the tavern room, casting a weary gaze over the wooden furniture and walls to make sure the three of them were the only ones present.

Red booted up the Audio Processor Program which brought several dials and graphs flashing into her mind, twisting and shifting at barely a thought and her hearing changed too to match. The noises below the floor came into focus for a moment bringing sounds of people moving and snatching hushed snippets of idle conversation wondering what was happening above, then a small burst of white noise as the program roved its focus above her and enhancing the previously dulled noise of footsteps of Merrily moving in circles above them as she worked. She nodded at Jaskier after he caught her eyes. No one was listening in, as far as she could tell.

He explained softly. "But some people are speaking. There are anonymous benefactors working behind the scenes, helping me, helping us, helping us make this right."

Red listened intently, when Yennefer asked "why" and Jaskier explained what he had seen at the Great Oak Bleohberis. She watched his gaze settle somewhere far away as he spoke. She could almost see the horrors reflected in his eyes watching such a free and wonderful melting pot of ideas being razed to the ground. Red had heard him tell this tale a few times by now but every time it never ceased to amaze her, to fill her with awe and dread at what had been done.

Red knew what such a feeling of loss was like to lose a place that had become a melting pot of ideas, cultures, and passion; it was a shock to the heart and then an empty ache begging for the return of what was lost. But of course it would never return, and so all that was left was pain and longing. What Red had been through and what was happening here wasn’t the same in any sense but, Red emphasised none the less.

But, as there always was with an open heart like Jaskier, there was a reason to be happy. There had to be or else how could he keep on going? Red loved seeing him jump up slightly as he told Yennefer about the intoxicating importance of legends. Red liked to think her own legend had help the citizens of Cloudbank. Not that she'd ever know at this point.

The program flagged up a little icon in her mind; a warning symbol and arrows, flashing, demanding her attention towards the heavy set door at the other end of the room. Someone was coming up the stairs from the cellar and the program hurriedly began isolating and enhancing the noise. It wasn’t smart enough to say who or what was making the noise, but considering everyone down there had been ordered to stay until She or Jaskier came for them, Red wasn’t about to take the chance. The door opened, and someone came through.

"Red. Company. 12 o'clock." Blue’s warning came anyway.

Red shot her hand out and grabbed the handle of the Transistor.

Turn()
{

The world became muted and overlaid with grid work on the ceiling and walls, and dots along the floor in a similarly neat grid pattern.Looking straight ahead she saw the man dressed in a green cloak. He had ginger hair and a beard. He didn't look dangerous, but the things they were discussing could not be left to escape outside certain circles.
An echo of her stood up from her seat, The Transistor held tightly in both hands and she strode over to the man and lifted The Transistor's edge up to his neck.

}

The man gasped, aware of the sheathed blade suddenly at his neck and Reds piercing blue eyes drilling into him. She could see him calculating his next move, weighing up his choices of attack against hers, and all the little who knew about the woman who had from his perspective just shot across the room, and now holding a greatsword up to his neck.

She hoped he chose quickly as The Transistor was unsurprisingly very heavy.

"Wait. Don't hurt him." Behind Red, Yennefer cried. "He's with me. It's okay."

The sound of feet across the wooden floor accompanied Yennefer arriving into view at Reds right side. Yennefer didn’t get any closer though, so Red kept on glaring at the man hoping it made her look intimidating.
But the man continued to meet Reds gaze with an iron hard gaze of his own, his eyes twitched slightly beneath the dregs of ginger hairs escaping from his hood. His beard was unkempt as the rest of him and looked to be in dire need of a shave.

"I need to get to Cintra." Yennefer spoke, then when Red raised an eyebrow she added. "The both of us."
There was a momentary pause. Red watched Yennefer and the man exchange a glance with each other, and then turn to look over Reds shoulder towards Jaskier for the final decision.

"We... We'll do what we can do." Jaskier sighed.
Red let the transistor drop slowly back down away from the man, she had to use both hands to ensure it didn’t crash to the floor, as a small smile of relief made his beard twitch and a like chuckle of relief escaped him.

"But know this. You, you both smell truly awful.” Jaskier continued, the sound of him stepping back and turning on his heel, he continued. "I mean, it is like something has crawled up your arses and died." He clapped his hands. "So...we leave Oxenfurt at nightfall. Plenty of time to take a bath before then. Just sayin'"

Yennefer gave a pained smile and a nod, already agreeing wholeheartedly to a bath from the looks of it. Red turned as well and made her own way back to the bar, following after Jaskier to leave Yannefer and the stranger in apparent privacy for a moment.

“What are doing up here?” The program still running picked up Yennefer hissing behind Red.

“I wanted to know where you had gone.” The mans voice was mellow and smooth, perfectly enunciated even as a hushed whisper. “You’d been up here a while. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t ran off on me.”

Red managed to resist looking back at them. But now suspicion gnawed at her stomach and she kept the program focused on them. Jaskier wouldn’t be able to hear this, in fact if she hadn’t had the program already running Red would have missed this conversation as well.

“Of course not.” Yennefer snapped under her breath. A restrained breath trying not to shout or be too loud. “The Sandpiper and I were just talking.”

“The Sandpiper?” Red could feel the mans eyes drilling into the back of her skull as she reached the bar. “And the Phoenix?” The man spoke again.

Jaskier’s popped up from behind the bar triumphantly with another bottle of something in hand. He breathed a happy sigh and popped the cork open to give the drink a quick sniff.

“Yes this smells a lot more palatable, I do declare.” Red tapped the Bar top to get his attention. “Hm? Yes, what, what is it?”

“Yes. And they’re our ticket to safety. So don’t-” Yennefers voice came through, amplified by the program. Red didn’t need the program to know Yannefer had ground the word through her teeth. “- fuck this up.”

‘What?’ Red mouthed at Jaskier, and jabbed a thumb to the pair behind her.

Only silence came from behind her now, so supposedly the man had had quietly agreed to ‘not fuck this up’. Red hoped so, this operation of theirs was too risky, too important.

“Look, Red. I know, trust me, I know; it’s risky and Yennefer is…” He spoke in a hushed tone as well, disguised under the pretense of him ducking back down beneath the bar so Red had to lean forward to hear him properly. He shuffled and clinked a few bottles on the shelves for good measure. “Okay, I wouldn’t trust her normally but she is who we do this for. And if we suddenly start saying who we do or don’t try and get to safety then why are we even doing this? Who is this even for?.” He paused for a moment. “And I’m not above admitting that its quite fun to have her asking me to help her out for a change. Oh don’t look at me like that, you don’t know what an arse she can be.”

Red refused to change her disgruntled expression. This was dumb. This was stupid and reckless. Even as he came back up from the floor she continued to shoot him a judging look which he simply ignored, waving her away.

“Merrily!” He bellowed. Above them the sounds of someone moving about, and then hurriedly descending the stairs. “Merrily. You about?”

“Yes, I’m here.” Merrily’s voice arrived before she did, rounding the fireplace into view and she shot a few glances at Yennefer and the stranger. “What can I do for you?”

“We have two more guests, Merrily my beauty. And both of them could do with a hot bath before their trip tonight. If you’d be so kind?”

Dutifully Merrily nodded and, after being pushed forward by Yennefer, the man followed her around the corner again and out of view along with her polite idle chatter designed to put all their guests at ease, before she would then explain the next steps of their escape.

"Oh come on. The smell can't be that bad? Is it Red?" Shooting a look down at The Transistor all Red had to do was nod and grimace. "Oh. Well in that case I'm pretty glad I can't smell anything."

“Sorry about that.” Yennefer walked back towards the bar.

“Old boy toy of yours, perhaps?” Jaskier asked with a blank face whilst pouring a newly selected bottle into their tankards. Red blinked rapidly at him. “She had a whole castle of people at one point, bewitched I might add. Fucking like rabbits.”

“Every time you speak, Bard, I feel as if should have let the Djinn kill you.”

“Ah, but whom would be here to help you out in your time of need?” His smile coated in gleeful spite.

“I think Red here could do very well.” Yennefer looked over at her. “She already has a good grasp of Chaos, after all”

Red, after quickly wiping the shock off her face, nodded happily and raised her tankard to Yennefer. And, silently wondered about that word again; Chaos. Jaskier had used it and seemed to be this worlds word for ‘Magic’. But then again they used that world as well so maybe there was something slightly different.

“Bet you could even chose a much better drink then whatever this shite is.” Red just nodded again with a lopsided smile. Yennefer narrowed her eyes. “You don’t speak a lot. Do you.”

“Its rude to point out peoples flaws, y’know.”

Red ignored Blue. And Shrugged at Yennefers statement, it clearly hadn’t been a question. Putting down her tankard she then pointed to her throat, and made an ‘x’ in the air.

"You can't speak? I can see why he keeps you around." Yennefer ignored Jaskiers protest. "So go on then. What no doubt sad and woe-begotten tale do you have to end up keeping Jaskier from talking himself into an early grave? And even helping him write new songs? I was very impressed by the way. You could almost hold a tune then, Bard"

Red paused mid swig, thankfully another weak mead, to almost laugh at this. It was one hell of a story after all in truth but…

Red nodded. She then pointed at Yennefer and mimed opening a book.

"Can I...book? Can I read?" Yennefer waited for Red to nod. "Yes I can read. I can write even."

Red clapped her hands together and thanked her lucky stars.

"Shame really. I thought you were quite good at charades, Red"

Ignoring him, Red dug into an inner pocket of her jacket. The same one she had taken that night and had worn ever since. She pulled out what looked like a wooden tablet, no bigger than a notepad and looked like one too, with a wooden stick hooked into two rings holding its front and back together. taking out the stick Red flipped open the wooden notebook to reveal its wax inside currently blank. She then began to use the stick to carve out…

My village was attacked by monsters a while ago and I’ve been doing work where I can to make a living.

Red handed the slate over to Yennefer who sucked on her teeth when she read it. “I am very sorry to hear that

Taking back the slate, Red nodded and shrugged. It wasn’t entirely a lie

We ended up travelling, saved Jaskier from a bunch of thieves and he offered me pay to get him to the next town safely. We've been travelling together since. He's needed me more now with the Sandpiper work.

"Well, I hope he's paying you enough. With how fast you move, you're worth it."

Red wrote upon the wax tablet again and tapped it to draw Yennefer’s attention.

You?

Yennefer took a deep breath in. “Well, no doubt the Bard here has filled you in on all my worst traits. And stories of my horrible adventures over the years.” She turned to glare at Jaskier, who simply hid behind his tankard and refusing eye contact. Yennefer then met Reds grimace with a knowing smile. "Well, Red, you seem to have your wits about you so I’ll leave you to judge how much of it was true and how much was utter drivel. Did my own thing for a while. A few times I even bumped into the Bard here, and Geralt too. Has he told you about Geralt? Ah good. Moving on. The place has been shit lately what with…everything really. And so...here I am in hiding."

"And smelling like shit." Jaskier added.

"Yes. Thank you, Bard." Then finishing the last dregs of her drink with a satisfied sigh, Yennefer stood up. "Well then I'll take the hint and go wash up. Nice to meet you, Red. Make sure to keep the Bard alive for me, at least until this evening."

It was getting late in the day now and the light from the windows was almost dim enough to light the lanterns hanging from the rafters. The sounds outside were slowly starting to shift from the merry and busy bubble of late afternoon to tried and merry early evening.

Currently the tavern was empty save for Jaskier and the tavern maid, but sounds of movement could be heard above and huffed murmurs from below reassured all that there was life within its walls.

Jaskeir sat at a table tucked out of Merrily’s way as she busied herself doing the last final bits of cleaning and prep work before the Tavern opened tonight, and he himself checked over his belongings and stuffing them back into his bag. He liked the little busy work; it kept his hands busy and let his mind run over with details for tonight.

A change of shirt and trousers. The ship would be waiting at the southernmost dock.

A small repair kit running out of thread. Strong winds tonight and into the early hours tomorrow, but nothing overly worrying.

Shit, he had run out of replacement string for his lute.

As silently and suddenly as only she could, Yennefer sat down on the chair opposite. Like a bad penny she just kept coming back.

“You do realise that Red is lying don't you?” Her arms crossed on the table she leaned forward.

“I told you to wait downstairs, with the others, until I came to get you.” Jaskier growled but didn’t look up from his work. “Least you got most of the stench off you.”

“Really? Are you actually as stupid as you look?”

Jaskier roughly shoved the water-skin back into his bag, and with a huff looked up at Yennefer. Raising to the bait, he leaned forward in his seat to meet Yennefer in the middle of the table hoping so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Yes. Yennefer,I know she’s lying. But I don’t think, and this may surprise you, I don't think she’s lying out of malice, or spite, or whatever else to get what she wants.” Looking to the side he sighed. “Honestly, I think she’s more…lost than anything else, and scared too. When we met-”

“When she saved you?”

Jaskier made several faces before admitting. “Yes, okay. I had run into trouble with some unsavoury types before she came along and saved me, somewhere on the roads around Carrera, but I had the situation under control.” Yennefer simply raised her eyebrows. “Okay fine, somewhat under control. Not important. Anyway.” He waved away the distracting thoughts so as to get them back on track. “The point is: she had know idea where she was, just kept asking about this place called Cloudbank. Never heard of it, but she was insistent it was the biggest city in the world.”

“Cloudbank?” Frowning, Yennefer ran over the names of cities and provinces she knew. “There's no such place? Or at least…none that were ever mentioned in any records I’ve seen. The largest city would probably be Nilfgaard or Cintra even.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Throwing his arms up and leaning back, before coming forward again. “But she had never heard of those cities, nor any of the others. I would bet my life on it that she barely even knows what the Continent is.”

“And she said…’In the World’?” Yennefer tapped the table on each word for emphasis.

“Yeah. Bit of an odd phrase, but yeah that’s what she said.”

A tense hush fell upon the pair. Each leaving the other to their own thoughts.

Yennefer sat with the possible ramifications of the phrase; most people, even the lords she had served over her life, barely saw past the their borders of their neighbours, let alone the Continent at large. And yet, here was someone who thought of ‘The World’ and betraying her as someone who travelled or was at very least well read. Someone who thought of and possibly knew what lay beyond the horizon. Was there such a place as CloudBank lying just out of view? Or was it the ravings of a lunatic who so happened to have surprising grasp on Chaos?

“And the weapon of hers?” Yennefer finally broke the silence. “What is it? She didn’t even take it out the sheathe earlier.”

For a moment Jaskier stayed quiet. Leaning back he folded his arms and looked up into the rafters trying to find the words.

“In all my days I have never seen anything like it. If…if you told me it wasn’t from this Sphere, Yennefer, I would believe you.” Yennefer frowned at this, but Jaskier was looking somewhere far away now as he remembered. “I think it’s suposed to be a Great Sword, but its far too wide so it’s more like a club really. Looks like it's made from Diamonds with strange gold engravings running through it. And three gold teeth, I suppose, at the end of it. And that eye, I have the strangest feeling like it’s watching me. And she insisted that the Sheathe have a hole for it.”

And silence descended upon them again. Floor boards above creaked and from somewhere below someone chuckled.

This time Yennefer broke the silence and clasped her hands together.

“Jaskier.” She began, making sure he met her gaze. “Red. She is…she is very powerful and her grasp of Chaos or it might even be that weapon of hers, but the way she was able to move like that earlier. I have never, never in my life seen anyone move with such speed without at least either ingesting something or casting a spell of some kind. But Red just seemed to be able to do it as easy as breathing.”

“Not one of your old ‘school chums’ then?”

“No, I’ve never met her in my life. Or even heard of her for that matter.” The thought worried Yennefer the most.

“You knew who she was earlier”

“Only because I had bumped into some Elves when I was being chased through the sewers.”

“You, and your boy toy.”

Ignoring him she continued “It was actually one of them that told me about the SandPiper and his Phoenix. He told me they could help get me out of Oxenhurt and invited me to come along.”

“Sounds like he’s a good lad.” Jaskier smiled with pride.

“Yeah. He was.”

The pair locked eyes across the table conveying the secret. Yennefers face remained stoic through practice, but Jaskier couldn’t hide the clench of his jaw. The horrid moment passed between them in silence and stillness.

“I have to say though Bard.” Yennefer gently pushed the moment away. “This looks to be quite the enterprise you’ve got going, even managed to make a name for yourself. I’m impressed. Even if you’re clearly being a bit too sloppy with it all for my liking; you’re bound to screw it up like this.”

“I assure you, Red and I, and are being extraordinarily careful. This isn’t my first smuggling run, remember?” His scowl then shifting halfway to a smile. “ And was that a compliment in there somewhere? Be careful Yennefer, I might start to think you actually have a heart.”

“Well. Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Slapping her hands on the tables she stood up. “Be it on your head, Bard.”

Watching her turn and begin to leave Jaskier felt the pride of annoying her quickly be replaced with guilt, which in turn annoyed him as well.

“Yennefer, Wait.” He called to her, and when she turned around still with her jaw locked tightly he said. “Thank you. I’ll keep a close eye.”

She didn’t say anything else; simply nodded and continued walking away.

Red lay upon the mattress as she stared up at the wooden boards above her. Listening intently to the sound of Yennefers footsteps the Audi Processing program effortlessly amplified and enhanced as the woman below made her way back to the door and back down into the cellar.

She waited another minute, her stomach and heart twisting horribly like they were trading places, thinking over the conversation she had heard. She let the program run in her mind, replaying the sentences and cleaning away all the background noises that had leaked through. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprise, but the thought did little to dull the feeling of betrayal that weighed her down.

She deactivated the program and turned onto her side. Red closed her eyes intent on trying to get some rest before this evening.

Finally, after the eternity of day, the sun set and one by one the windows of Oxenfurt were lit with the warm glow of lantern-light. The time had come to make their escape. Getting the refugees out of the tavern was a much longer and complicated than getting them in.

As the night continued Jaskier would play his songs and the tavern staff would make the patrons merry with mead and wine, filling the room with music a raucous laughter. Jaskier kept his eyes open, spinning around the room for any patron or group making to leave and he would swoop in with a smile, a grin, and promise of a tale if they would just sit down for another drink and stamping a merry dance. Red then slipping away between the throngs of people.

Meanwhile, down below in the Cellar, the steps across a specific beam would creak the signal it was time for the next pair to be chosen. Merrily, under the pretence of getting another barrel, would then dash down as the chosen patron began to leave to usher out the chosen refugees back out the Tavern cellar door where Red would be waiting just around a corner, one that changed for with each pair ushered out. They couldn’t afford to be predictable, and timing was everything. Getting it just right meant any guards or wandering souls would be looking at the drunkards out the front and not the shadows rushing out the back. They couldn’t afford to get it wrong.

And so this continued, until Merrily came back up lamenting how they had ran out of food, or the patrons favourite drink, and by that time the Tavern owner had had enough of Jaskier prancing and jumping about, hopping on tables and causing a fuss. Jaksier, and Red, would then be thrown our of the tavern along with the remaining patrons, and the pair would split off to slink through the streets and find the refugees again huddled in the shadows of alleys, beneath awnings, abandoned buildings, or the occasional home of someone sympathetic to their plight.

Thankfully all who were waiting were accounted for and unharmed. This time.

The nights of Oxenhurt were cold and bitter this time of year, and even more so down by the docks where they were exposed the the seas frigid air blowing in from lands far away. A gust of wind raked across her face and Red drew her jacket closer for warmth, trying hard to stop her teeth from chattering. Any of the refugees she followed who had hats or hoods drew them closer as well to hide from the wind and any prying eyes. Red did another headcount of the group as they passed under a building's awning, with lanterns hanging on each post. The group all huddled close to the building's wall trying to stick to the shadows and stay out of the pools of light which swung gentle across the ground in the wind.

Good, they’re still all here. Ten in all.

Their combined footsteps kept Red on edge, so certain she was that someone would hear them all that any sudden scuffle of someone tripping or sliding over mud her heart lurched to her throat, and made her look to the windows leering down at them from the shadows. It was the ones without any lantern light that worried her, they were like pupils of eyes drinking in the sight of them, watching them, and hiding whomever might be lurking within those pools of darkness.

At the head of the procession, Jaskier brought them to a stop beneath an awning amid a shuffling of feet and small mumbles of anxious surprise.

Red threw a hand behind her back and across the eye of the Transistor as she tried hard to keep her anxiety from taking over, and keep her wits about her. Strapped to her back she found it’s weight reassuring against the stomach churning adrenaline rushing through her veins.

“All clear Red.” Blue reported. It was nice to know someone had her back.

“Why are we stopping?” One Elf whispered.

“I don’t know.” Another snapped under their breath.

Red quickly ‘shushed’ the pair of them and held up a finger signalling them to wait. Up at the head of the group she could hear Jaskier talking with Yennefer, and the green cloaked man, Cahir, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Her gut swirled with temptation to turn her Audio Processor Program to their direction but she resisted, instead leaving it to passively scan the area around her for sounds of movement.

The silence of the night made every small noise echo around the stone and wood of buildings, so that even noises of life far away cam bouncing them around and seem much louder. Even at such an hour the docks were still alive and busy, and she could hear people barking orders to each other to the sound of ropes being pulled and heavy cargo moved in earnest ready to be set across the waters in the morning.

At the head of the group Jaskier slipped around the corner and out of sight, with the rest of them following quickly after, not wanting to be left behind or caught by any wandering souls. Still bringing up the rear, Red followed the last of the refugees around the corner to the familiar sight of the ship.

The Huron waited patiently for them all at it’s moorings bopping gently upon the abyssal black waters that it’s dimmed lanterns did little to penetrate. It had a single mast currently with it’s single square sail rolled up safely at the top. To Red eyes, it was a very small ship and she assumed that it’s shallow but wide hull was better built for sailing the coast rather than open waters, but she was admittedly not a sailor by any degree. Regardless, the peeling paint work did suggest it could do with some work. She was a wooden sailing vessel, probably on the smaller end but large enough to carry a decent amount of cargo and crew. The captain of the ship was another one of those sympathetic to the Elves plight and had been generously thanked for the use of the ship. As long as he and his crew didn’t see anyone going on or off the ship, then no one was there as far as they were concerned. It just so happened that this evening, and at this time, they were all at another Tavern on the other side of Oxenfurt.

Desperate, anxious seconds passed and then followed by minutes. Red could feel the refugees getting anxious now by them shuffling in place, looking to each other, looking to her for reassurance. This was always the worst parts; waiting to trace the movements of the dock hands moving around and trying to spot the rhythm, trying to spot the time to make their move. She put on a calm and determined smile in the hopes the refugees could see it in the darkness, and not hear how fast her own heart was pumping or how she instinctively reached back to grab the hilt of the Transistor for reassurance.

As per the plan, when Jaskier broke off from the group Red slipped forward ahead, ushering them all after her, to stick to the shadows, and slip around the building, and then behind the next. She sunk down behind a pile of crates. Yennefer and Cahir were the first to join her and all three pressed their backs to the wall. Like droplets of water the others followed in small packs, Red was thankful they had already picked up on their methods, and arrived safely into the shadows with her. They were all silent as they could be, save for some small sighs and shuffling feet. Even so, Red leaned forward ever so slightly and pressed a finger to her lips. They couldn’t risk any slip ups. Not now. Not when they were this close.

Her heart pumping far too loudly in her chest, Red turned and inched her head ever so slightly around the corner so she could see Jaskier, over the top of a stack of crates out of her right eye, as he strolled confidently across the stone docks and towards the ramp leading up to The Huron. She didn’t dare lean any further for fear of being spotted. Even with a hood covering her bright red hair, Red wasn’t the most inconspicuous of people.

Her heart hopped into her throat when he approached the man waiting on the Ramp; they had been told there was a chance someone would be keeping an eye on the ship. A minor wrinkle in the plan but they had accounted for it. They would simply enact their contingency plan to get the Refugees on board.

As she watched Jaskier fuss and make a show of digging through his many, many pockets, Red could feel that frantic energy pushing out at her seams. It jittered and jumped all around her, as if she was a child in a very good hiding place and wanting to jump and shout to the seeker for the thrill of being discovered. She took a deep breath, bundled up all that energy, then let it all out in a slow and steady breathe. Her Audio Processor Program notified her of similar sounds from behind, from the refugees in a similar hyped up state. As long as they kept quite then it would be fine.

She watched Jaskier chat with the other man, possibly the Dock Manager, the Audio Processor Program easily bringing their conversion into focus for her and filtering out the barking orders of the dock hands nearby; the Dock manager was complimenting Jaskiers songs and Jaskier himself was lapping up the attention. And then it was over with a song and a chuckle, then a couple of smiles sealed the deal. Red grinned seeing their bet pay off. She spun around to the group and held up both thumbs and a few of them let out a sigh of relief.

Then she turned back around and for some unknown reason Jaskier was still on the boardwalk, he had turned around and was now again talking to the Dock manager. Her stomach sunk as their conversation continued, as it took an uncomfortable turn. This wasn’t part of their contingency plan.

“That magic kiss?” The Dock Manager chuckled. Red grimaced, she could see Jaskiers face drop. “That was a bit cheap.”

“I spotted the dragon reveal a mile away.” The Dock manager continued. Red winced watching Jaskier muttering something. “I must say, the, uh... the bit when the lute player ends up with the warrior ladies…Didn't really ring true for me, I must say.“

Red held her breath. Jaskier simply nodded and the pair of them turned away from each other and for one brief moment Red dared to believe things would be fine. But Jaskier wore his heart on his sleeve.

“You know, if you could write yourself a little song, you could sing yourself whatever you please, but you can't, can you?” Jaskier spun round with a picture of fury on his face.

Red didn’t need the Audio Processor Program to hear him near shouting with righteous fury. She looked over at the others, all groaning with disappointment and slumping against the wall. And all she could offer was what she hoped was a sufficiently apologetic and reassuring smile. Even as her own stomach twisted itself in knots. Even as Jaskier continued on his tirade against the Dock manager.

“This is taking too long. We need to get him away from the ramps.” To her left Cahri whispered, just loud enough for her and the others to hear. Then he went to try and move past but Yennefer thankful grabbed hold of him and the too bickered in hushed tones about Cahir trying to distract the Dock manager but Yennefer not letting him go.

But Red wasn't listening to them, instead she had spotted one of the Refugees break away from the wall and try to walk past them. Red snatched his arm and pulled him away from the shadows edge and back into the safety of darkness.

Shooting him a wide eye glare she mouthed ‘What?’

“Let me go.” The old elf pleaded with her, he was too loud and set Reds teeth on edge, he tried to pull at her fingers but her grip was strong. She hissed at him to be quieter. “Please. I can distract them…I … I can do something..to help..I.”

The old man stopped struggling against her grip and hung his head so his grey braids partially hid his face. But even in the gloom Red saw the twinkle of tears in the old man's eyes and his lip quivering as he tried hard not to break down. At least he still had enough control not tot risk them all being discovered. Red frowned up at him and let out an exasperated breathe though her nose. She wanted to help but she was completely at a loss to what he was on about and they really didn’t have time for this. She shot a glance over her shoulder at the scene unfolding by the ship ramp, Jaskier was still talking, and then back to the scene right in front of her. She dismissed a little signal from the Program that appeared. One thing at a time.

“You’re the one from the sewer.” Yennefer explained. “The one who let his friend die.”

The old man simply nodded. “It should’ve been me. Not him. He had his whole life ahead of him.” Guilt shook his small voice.

“Red.” Mr. Nobody yelled in panic. “Jaskier’s in trouble!”

Red spun round, letting go at the man, just in time to see the Dock Manager holding Jaskier up by his shirt and then thrown from the boardwalk. He landed back upon the stone cobbles with a whimper, and like wolves smelling injured prey other dock hands put down their work and came sauntering over with jeers and cruel smiles twisting their faces. A few cracking their knuckles in anticipation.

“You should’ve kept your mouth shut.” The Dock Manager sneered, strolling down the boardwalk.

Jaskier rolled onto his stomach and pulled himself onto his fours trying to stand up. The Dock managers boot struck him in the stomach, hard, hard enough to lift him up off the ground. It drove all the wind from him with a yelp and an ugly wheeze. He curled up on his side and Red watched him open and close his mouth repeatedly, futilely, desperate to get air back into his lungs.

If Red could swear she would’ve. Loudly. She spun again, snapping her gaze back to the group just as Yennefer was stepping forward towards the shadows edge. Red leaped in front of her stopping her dead in her tracks, and pushed her back.

“Fuck you.” Yennefer hissed. “They’re gonna kill him!”

Red jabbed a finger into Yennefers chest, then pointed at the group at large, and at her feet. Hopefully they all got the message. Red turned her back on them, taking a moment to take off her bag and drop it to the ground, she then stepped across the border and into the light of the dock lanterns all around her. There was no where to hide now and she had no intention of doing so. In one swift motion she reached up to the handle of the Transistor with her left hand and undid the clasp for it running across her chest with the other so it swung down and around from her left side to her right, and with her right hand she gripped the handle near the guard so she was almost dragging the weapon across the floor. She locked eyes with the Dock Manager. His hungry gaze meeting her own.

“Looky here lads, we got ourselves a little hero in the making.” The Dock Manager chuckled when he saw her. “Bit of advice, love; keep walking. Ain’t none of your business.”

The other Dock Hands, three in total, laughed as they moved in on Jaskiers gasping form, and blocking him from view.

“Go on lads, get stuck in.”

“Get ‘em Red.”

Red tightened her grip on the Transistor and stepped forward. She planted her left foot ahead of her and swung with her hip, curving the Transistor's heavy bulk into an upward arc to her left, and right into the nearest Dock Hand’s side and sending spinning him to the ground. She then twisted in the opposite direction to return the swing making sure to give the Dock hand on her right, barely enough time to block her blow with his arms that sent him stumbling backward.

The Dock Manager jeered in delighted surprise. “Ayup, careful there fellas. Looks like this one's got a bit o’fight to her!” Not for long though.

The Dock hands and the Manger stepped over Jeskier, jeering and mocking her as she threw the Transistor side to side trying to ward them off. The thugs swore at her, goading her, trying to intimidate her and make her panic. Panting hard through with grimace, she kept walking backwards with the occasional stumbling lunge which did nothing but raise a little jeer from them.

Red looked past them and between their legs to see Jaskier pulling himself up off the ground. He stared at her, and she shot him a wink.

The dock hand on her right made a lunge for her and instinctively she swung with the Transistor. Hard. The dock Hand cried out when it collided into his arm like a battering ram, sending him flying into another stack of crates with a dull ‘thud’. He slid down to the floor with a soft moan and didn’t get up. Red stared down at him with her heart beating loud in her ears. She snapped her gaze back up to the others who were looking down at their friend, then at her, and their ugly smiles had dipped slightly on their faces. She had taken out another one of them with a single swing, and the others knew that maybe she wasn’t quite as helpless as she appeared. She could see them all now thinking hard whether she was actually worth a fight. Red blew a raspberry at them. A moment of stunned silence followed.

“You. Bitch.” The Dock Manager now very red in the face spat. “Get her!”

“I think that’ll do it Red”

Quickly, giving the group of thugs behind her the bird, Red turned tail and ran down the street away from the docks. He feet slapping against the hard cobbles and the thundering sound of angry feet ringing in her ears.

Chapter Text

Under the cover of night, down one of the many twisting streets that made up the warrens of Oxenfurt, Red came to a stumbling and juddering halt. She leaned back against the blissfully cold stone wall for support and tilted her head up to stare into the night sky. Her hair was plastered to her face covered in sweat, she took deep gulps of air that burned down her throat and into her lungs.

Her NIRV politely informed her that her heartbeat was at 140bpm, and that she had been running for about 20 minutes. It felt like an eternity; between having to navigate across the treacherous ground in the dark and keep check of her location, Red was exhausted at this point. Only a few of the more hardy Dockhands had managed to keep up with her, screaming obscenities and threats behind her. But soon enough decided that she wasn’t worth the trouble of giving chase. Still, Red had ran on and focused on putting as much distance between her and them as she could.

‘Well Done!’ The little window in her mind excitedly declared, just as she spun around and placed her forehead against the wall to savour its chill. ‘You have reached your target step count for the day.’

A paltry 6,000 steps. She really ought to change it.

"Still no sign of them Red." Blue spoke from her back. "I think we’ve lost them for good. Hopefully Jaskier managed to get away. You get your breath back, Red, and then let’s head to the meeting spot."

Red nodded into the cold, blessedly clod, stone wall and took a few minutes to focus on bringing her breathing back down to a less ‘wheezy’ state. And inwardly thanking herself for all those early morning runs she did back home. She peeled herself away from the wall after savouring one last gulp of the deliciously cold night air.

She tried their usual meeting spot; an alley nestled between two buildings sitting on the edge of one of the smaller market squares, of which a large harbour city like Oxenfurt boasted many. But when she slipped around the round the corner into the small alley there was no sign of him, she threw cautionary ‘psst’ into the abyssal darkness her eyes struggled pierce into, but didn’t hear any response. Unease nestled like a lump next to her heart but she refused to let it own her just yet.

‘He’ll show up. I just need to give him a bit more time.’ She reasoned.

She forced the sense of unease down into the pit of her stomach and slotted herself into the arch of a door way to wait. There she waited, and all the while rubbing her arms trying to keep the cold beyond her jacket and yellow woollen shirt at bay. The gnawing worry forced her to stick her head out beyond the archway and glance up and down the street every few minutes, desperately hoping to see Jaskier walking towards her with a well deserved black eye and maybe a few bruises. But every time she checked all she saw was an empty street. Her NIRV kept a loyal count of the time as the minutes passed by, the time in 24 hour format cemented into her mind; first it was 5, then 10, 16, 20, 25, 30…still no sign of Jaskier. She would have to go find him.

“Whoa hey, Red wait where are we going?” Blue asked in sudden surprise when Red moved off from the archway. “We need to wait for Jaskier. Unless….you think something has happened don’t you?”

Red, deciding that time was of the essence, took a direct route back towards the Harbour because if something had happened to Jaskier then she would need to find him fast. The most likely thing she could think of was he hadn’t been able to get away in time earlier and had been caught by the pack of vengeful Dock Hands. The thought spurred her on and pushing her aching legs into action.

Shortly, she found herself back crouching behind the same stack of crates she had hidden behind earlier. She didn't know what exactly she was looking for, just something that would tell her where Jaskier would've gone. She started by pulling up the hood of her shirt and peaking her head over the top of the crate and casting her eyes over the area.

Spotting the Dock Master again her stomach hit the floor. The man was standing idly by another boat and watching a pair of Dock Hands struggle under the weight of a large wooden box. Red was almost pleased to see one of the Dock hands under the light of a nearby torch already sporting a bruise on one side of his face. However, casting her gaze further around the Dock only soured Reds mood. Now without the fun of chasing her the Dock hands had returned to their work carrying cargo or instead chatting together in groups awaiting their next task. Evidently whatever break they had all been on had now finished, the place was practically swarming with Dock hands! The only other silver lining Red could see was The Huron was still docked, sitting silently and undisturbed without any activity around it.

But she was still left wondering how the hell was she supposed to search around for Jaskier now?

Red chewed on her lip trying to think of the best way forward; she could try and sneak out from her hiding place but she would easily be spotted again. Fighting them all off was out of the question and would just make things harder for her and Jaskier’s work later. As it was Jaskiers stunt earlier would set them back weeks, if not months.

“Someones coming!” Blue spoke and Reds heart jumped, she whipped around in her crouch, then Blue continued. "Wait it’s Yennefer? What is she doing out here?"

Yennefer emerged from the shadows with her hood up and cloak wrapped around herself while trying to keep her face covered. Red frowned hard at the woman as she knelt down next to her, wondering just what it was she was still doing here and not hiding on the Huron with the other refugees. Someone came stomping past their hiding spot before Red could even begin to try and ask, and the pair of them shrink into the darkness as much as they could. Moments passed where neither of them dared to breathe. Counting out the seconds they waited. Finally, after a minute with no one else coming close they dared to let out a breath.

"Jaskiers been taken." Yennefer whispered as soon as Red looked at her, she didn’t return Reds gaze or react to the sudden gasp of horror, and continued with a hint of panic in her voice. "I was on the ship when I heard him shout. When I went up to the deck I spotted his lute lying on the ground, broken. I've been waiting for either you or him to come back, and so far…its just you."

From her back, Blue swore.

Red took a moment to process the information, meanwhile Yennefer began rifling beneath her cloak. At first she didn't believe it. She couldn't believe it. And then she looked down at the object in Yennefer's hands which she had pulled out from the folds of her cloak. It was Jaskiers lute. The neck had been brutally snapped in two and now only attached to the body by its strings. Her heart tightened.

Red pointed at Yennefer, then at her own eyes, and then off towards the docks.

"No I didn't see anything." She shook her head. "I told you I was on the ship, below decks."

Red let out a exasperated breath. Running her hands over her face she tried to think of her next move. She needed to to find Jaskier…but to do that she first had to figure out who had taken him, and then figure out where they had taken him. Another run around Oxenfurt was the last thing she needed right now. She picked at her bottom lip in thought as she tried to pull a plan together. She always had a plan, but she just needed a moment to think, to mull over the information she had on hand.

To her left, the crate began to move with strained grunts of effort.

Adrenaline surged through her veins, goosebumps erupted all over her with fright. They needed to move, and next to her Red felt Yennefer pushing back into the unrelenting wall. She desperately wished the darkness of shadow would hide them both completely. All they could do was watch with baited breath, in shared horror, as the create lifted itself into the air and then turned to the right to reveal the man standing behind it.

The man spotted them almost immediately, and jolted with a start, almost overbalancing with the crate in his arms. His eyes flicked between theirs. Then his eyes settled on Reds, and hers on his. Both stared at each other in recognition of the other in the lantern light; her wide blue eyes meeting his brown, one swollen almost shot by a nasty bruise covering the left half of his face.

“You!” The crate crashed to the floor.

The Transistor was many things but inconspicuous was not one of them.

“Move.” Yennefer ordered, wrapping her hand wrapped around Reds right arm and pulling her off the floor and into a sprint.

"Oi!" A voice barked from somewhere behind her. "That's her; that's the bitch."

"Here we go again."

Yennefer, nearly dragging her, pulled Red after her as the pair sprinted back past the Harbour entrance and up the same street, that Red had come back down from just a few minutes prior.

Red finally yanked her arm free from Yennefer so she could grasp the strap of the Transistor with one hand to lessen its jarring bouncing on her shoulder, and the other on the on her bag bouncing wildly against her thigh. Her legs burned and her feet burst with pain with every step. But she had to keep going, powered by the last dregs of adrenaline and fear, she had to keep going. Every breathe in and out tore down her throat, her lungs clamouring for every bit of air she could force into them against the painful stitches in her sides

A few steps ahead she could see the shadowy form of Yennefer, with her cloak billowing out behind her and occasionally illuminated by the few torches still lighting the streets, or windows lit from within.

But it was the clamouring noises of shouting and stamping feet that scared her. Each time she twisted around a corner she heard them shout commands at each other only quickened for a second before coming back full blast. The fires of vengeance had been rekindled after seeing their prey return. Every time she slipped and yelped, or nearly lost her footing they jeered excitedly. She didn't dare look back.

“Red, they’re gaining on us.” Blue reported from her back. She could hear the panic in his voice. “You’re going to have to fight them. They won’t let you get away this.”

Red gritted her teeth and pushed her legs harder, trying to outrun the idea as much as the group behind her. Her breathes were coming out in haggard gasps. She kept shooting glances downwards trying keep her footing as the lights were now becoming fewer and farther between. Even the moonlight dimmed behind clouds and hid muddy spots from her, trying to lure her into slipping and cracking her skull. Closer and closer she could hear her pursuers. their footsteps ringing in her ears, she could imagine, almost feel their cruel hands reaching out to grab her. Then there was a cobble stone jutting high up out the ground highlighted by a silver of light. She jumped over the stone, and behind her came a thud, a crack, and a swear. One more down. She looked back up ahead of her and saw only empty darkness.

‘Wheres Yennefer!?’

Fear strangled her. Blue was right; She would have to fight her way out of this one. There was no other way out. Tired and exhausted she would have to take down however many more thugs were running behind her.

A hand lunged out from a gap between two buildings and caught her arm. She barely had a chance to yelp before she was pulled violently into the darkness.

In a panic she tried to fight off her aggressor who was incessantly shush-ing her before managing to slam a hand over her mouth, the other arm around her torso. Now having come to a forced stop Red muscles gave out, even as she tried to reach up with her restrained arms to claw at the hand over her mouth, she found that she barely had enough energy to even stand up.

"Be quiet or they'll find us." Yennefer, whispering right in Red ear to be heard over the din of her heartbeat.

Red forced herself to be still despite her knees shaking and threatening to buckle beneath her. Seconds past and the rumbling of feet and shouts came closer, and closer…and then a group of rough looking men went charging past their hiding spot and continued on into the night. Their stomping feet and yells getting further and further away.

But even after they had disappeared into the night Yennefer kept a tight grip.

Red squirmed wanting to be released, her lungs were burning and she couldn't get enough air through Yennefers hand.

Finally, after a what felt like another eternity to Red, Yennefer released her.

With an almighty gasp Red fell forwards, catching herself on the wall barely a step in front of her. She let the bliss of its cool surface envelope her for the moment. She couldn’t get enough of the cool night air into her lungs, gulping it down in loud gasps as if it were water. Dutifully, her NIRV reported the her heart rate at 190BPM. A little window popped up in her mind politely informing her to take a break and drink a class of water. She dismissed the irksome window.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." Yennefer cursed repeated in a harsh whisper as she paced the alley, it was more of a gap between buildings, they were in was too small to give her much room so she had to settled with pacing to its end and back to Red. Then a smack on the wall. "Fuck!"

Red let her. She let the other woman get the fear and frustration out of her system. Any other time when Red wasn’t fighting exhaustion to stay up right, she would have joined her in the frantic pacing and swearing too.

“Okay so…what do we do now?” Yennefer returned after exhausted her surprisingly long list of swears, half of which Red didn’t understand.

Red took out her tablet and carved a single word upon it’s surface and handed it over for Yennefer to read. The dim light made things difficult and she had to tilt it into a number of positions to read it clearly.

“Rest?” Yennefer spoke the word and handed back the tablet with disgust. “Is that it? Don’t you two have somewhere to go or hide if things go wrong?”
Distrust flared within Red like a fire, a bright red flag rising high in the wind, as she wiped away the message in wax to write out a new one for Yennefer.
“Not there. Of course, can’t leave that bloody bard anywhere.” Yennefer clicked her tongue. “So, he’s been kidnapped then. Why? Who would even want to kidnap a bard, let alone Jaskier?”
Red resisted the urge to sigh or rub the bridge of her nose. Yennefer raised some very good questions, and they were the exact same ones she was wondering herself, but now wasn’t the time to try and find the answers. As mush as Red wanted to go out again to the harbour and try to find something, anything, any little clue that could tell them where Jaskier was, Red knew that the chances of finding anything useful right now were slim to nothing in the darkness. Plus, with the Harbour night crew still on shift or running around Oxenfurt after them, their best and safest option right now was to stay low and rest.

One last message was carved on her tablet.

Tomorrow. Rest Now.

Red could more hear the frustration in Yennefers voice when she sighed, but she thankfully didn’t argue. Instead choosing to wrap her cloak tightly around herself and settle down with her back to the wall opposite Red. Red unhooked the Transistor from her back and put it on the ground leaning against the wall with the eye facing outward, and then settled down onto the thankfully dry cobbles and leaned back against it. The Transistor was a large weapon so the eye was the same height as he head when she sat down next to it.

“Guess we’re bunking down here for tonight then?” Blue asked. In reply Red simply moved her hand nonchalantly across the eye. Yennefers puzzled look was obvious even in the darkness. “Okay then red. You two ladies can rest easy, I’ll keep a look out and wake you up if there’s trouble.”

Blue stared up at the sky. Clouds had drifted over Oxenfurt a little while ago and had taken away what little moonlight had fallen down to the narrow alley Red and Yennefer were huddled in. He could see to the right the dark form of Yennefer wrapped and hidden inside her cloak. To the left was the entrance to the alley, and beyond the cobbles of the open street thankfully devoid of their pursuers. A deep sigh emanated from somewhere in front him, somewhere far in front him, and he saw the shadow that would be Red head obscuring the right of his view slightly tilt further right and almost out of site. He couldn’t hold back a little chuckle.

“Is she asleep?” A voice came behind him, closer. The voice was deep with a lisp that struggled over its s’.

Blue pulled his gaze down from the sky, but The Transistor kept the sky and alley beyond it’s eye in sight; even as the horizon came up into view with endless fields of golden wheat, the sky held the same image of the sky and alley. The overall effect was like the ground was moving instead of Blue moving his head and turning to look back at the speaker behind him. If he were still flesh and blood, Blue was certain the effect would have made him incredibly motion sick.

Olmarq was still walking towards him with the long strands of wheat surrounding them both parting politely before him as he moved closer. Olmarq was taller than Blue, and He wasn’t too bad looking either with a clean shaven face and athletic physic. The only thing that could really be said against the man were his ears that had been mangled to look like cauliflowers during his career as an American Footballer, his right ear in worse shape than his left, leaving him somewhat deaf and tending to talk much louder than everyone else. Behind Olmarq was the familiar sight of the farmhouse, it’s green walls and red roof. The place had become home over the last few months he, and the others, had been trapped within The Transistor. Granted it was an involuntary and hopefully temporary residence, but there were much worse places one could be trapped in.

“Red just fell asleep.” Blue turned back to look up at the sky. He heard Olmarq come up next to him. “I think Yennefer is still awake though. She keeps moving.”

Olmarq stuffed his hands in his pockets and sniffed. “Bet you those assholes are still around looking for us. Any minute now they’re going to come around that corner and find them both sound asleep.”

Blue tried hard not to roll his eyes at Olmarq; the man was always one to worry and blow things out of proportion. In another life, Blue could see the footballer as a tv star in a soap drama.

“They’ll be fine. They’ve got us watching over them, haven’t they?”

“Should be inside. In an inn or something. Maybe even one of the safe houses The Falcon has around here.”

Blue chuckled sarcastically. “I don’t think they’ve invented all night hotels just yet. Plus.” He turned to face Olmarq. “It’s Yennefer. She’s mot exactly trustworthy, and I don’t think the Falcon would thank us for it.”

“We only met her today.”

“I was more talking about what Jaskier said, but that’s a good point too.”
Olmarq sneered and brushed away the point. “Jaskier’s a bloody drama queen. And, don’t forget, the reason why we’re even in this mess.”

“Yeah, well.” Blue sucked on his teeth with a nod and grimace. “Nothing we can do about that now. Best bet is to wait till morning and hope he’s still okay.”

“Wouldn’t count on it. He doesn’t seem like the sort of guy who would do well under interrogation.”

Blue closed his eyes and silently prayed for strength. “Why would you say that?”
“Oh come on! We’re all thinking it.” Olmarq threw up his arms. “He’s THE Sandpiper, why else would he be kidnapped? He’s probably in some jail cell and having every one of our contacts names beaten out of him right this second. Our best bet is to tell everyone we can, and get out of here.”

“No one knows he’s the sandpiper.”

“Yennefer figured it out just by looking at him. Not only that, she figured out who Red was as well.” Olmarq threw a hand towards the sky and added. “And he couldn’t even lie about it.”

Blue couldn’t argue about that point, instead he flustered for a second trying to pull an argument together. “After everything he’s done? After everything he’s done for us-”

“Oh. After everything he’s done for Red, you mean.” Olmarq folded his arms with a sneer. “I don’t remember you, or the rest of us, being actually introduced. Or brand new clothes, or dinner paid for.”

An uncomfortable feeling sat in Blues chest. He clenched his fists, his teeth, trying not to squirm at the feeling, at that horrid feeling of jealousy, of inadequacy. He didn’t reply, instead chose to scowl at the smug look on Olmarqs face as he raised an eyebrow, so proud of himself for finding that sore spot, again.

“You still haven’t told her that we’re here.” Olmarq broke the silence, dropping his sneer.

“We’ve been a little busy.” Blue explained, anger boiling in his voice. He flexed his fists. “In case you haven’t noticed; there hasn’t been a good time for it.”

“It’s been fucking months!”

“What am I supposed to say?” He shouted, then in an overly sweet voice continued. “’Hey Red, are you enjoying this whole new world as much as I am? Great, by the way, all those skills you’re getting? They’re actually people and they’ve been in here too. Yeah, this whole time!’” He droppedd the voice. “Because I can see that going so well, can’t you?.”

“Oh fuck you Blue, if you won’t tell her then-”

“Then what?” It was his turn to be smug. Holding out his hands as if asking a question, as if he didn’t already know this was a bluff. As if they hadn’t had this exact same argument hundreds of times before. “Then what, Olmarq? You’ll tell her yourself? You’ll just, waltz out of here and be alive again? Is that what will happen, if I don’t tell her right now? Is it?”

Blue felt a little guilty as the words spilled out but the anger, the satisfaction of seeing Olmarq stand there and glare with fury completely outweighed it.

“Get fucked.” Olmarq spat, and stormed away.

“Arsehole.” Blue spat after him.

A loud bang. Red jolted awake with a start and snapped her gaze left and right in a barely conscious panic. She was still in the alley, still on the very cold and very hard ground, and her neck ached.

“Morning.” A voice somewhere on the street called, followed by a similar reply. The sounds of conversation and movement of the world around them waking up came drifting to her from around the corner and beyond. Past the purple cloaked figure with their hood up standing guard, cutting a silhouette out of the morning sunlight struggling to rise over the rooftops.

“Finally awake?” The figure, Yennefer, turned her head to look down at Red. Her face was neutral but displeasure dripped from her words. She turned away. “Thought you would have kept a look out last night. You know, considering we were being chased, and neither of us exactly ‘Blend in’. But we’re here, still alive. Suppose that’s something at least.”

Ah, there was that scathing bite Red had heard so much about. She simply rolled her eyes at the back of Yenneefers head, and brushed away the sleep that had accumulated during the night. Her limbs protested when she stood up from the cold that had seeped into them and her joints. She rubbed her arms and legs trying to bring some life back into them.

“Don’t worry, Red.” Blues voice came in to reassure her. “I kept an eye out for you both. Most exciting part was the rats coming to say hello.”

It was hard to repress the revolted panic, even Blue chuckled from with the Transistor. Of all the times for him to crack a joke…She shot him a glare before strapping the Transistor back into place and checking her bag was resting still by her hip with everything in it.

“So what’s the plan then?” Yennefer asked, still not looking at Red.

Red took a moment to dig out her pad and wrote upon it. Tapping Yennefer on the shoulder to show her the message.

Look for clues

“Well this was a fine use of our time.” Yennefer complained.

The Audio Processing Program had no problem picking up Yennefers displeasure over the roaring noises of trade and work going on around them. At this time of day the Harbour had become a bustling cauldron of activity. Where the Huron had been docked the previous even was now a fishing vessel with workers diligently unloading crates of fish and placing upon the floor for prospective customers to gawk at and shout over each other for the best price. Whatever tracks or clues there may have been from last night had been completely wiped away beneath the shuffling feet of house wives and merchants looking for an early bird bargain. Even Jaskiers lute, they had dropped in the mad dash last night had disappeared without a trace.

“Any other ideas?” Yennefer turned and followed after Red, ignoring one merchant trying to sell her a particular fresh fish.

Red, with her patience already wearing thin, simply came to a stop and held up a finger in Yennefers face which the woman scowled at the digit in offence. She just needed another moment to think, to come up with a plan. She began looking around again and peering over the tops of peoples heads around her, like a meerkat. Over the tops of heads and shoulders barging past her she could see stacks of crates, ropes, and netting, and even further beyond the alleys and nooks between the warehouses and buildings that edged along the harbour, interspersed by wider streets and roads. The nearest ones seemed to her like the most liekly to have been used by anyone trying to make an escape with a hostage. The momentary feeling of triumph was interrupted by the thought that, she would would’ve ran past those same nooks and up those streets last night, at least twice, and hadn’t seen anything then.

She bit her lower lip trying to think of something else.

“Shit.” Yennefer swore behind her.

Looking around Red spotted the cause, the familiar look of the metal helmets shining in the morning light set her stomach twisting in knots. Shit.

Yennefer grabbed hold of Reds arm and began earnestly urging her forwards through the crowd, barging past and ignoring the few outcries left In their wake.

“I’ve got an idea.”

“We need someone who would have likely been out last night, late last night. Someone who is completely ignored by society but is still everywhere” Yennefer explained. “They might have seen something or at least know someone who had.”

Back in the back streets of the city, the pair had allowed themselves to slowdown a little. Red followed after Yennefer as they slid past other people in the busy streets going about their own business, barely giving either a second glance. Beneath her own hood Red tried not to gag when her foot sank into something she didn't want to know about.

Yennefer slowed a few steps to let Red catch up. “We need a whore, so keep an eye out.”

“Oh.” Blues startled voice mirrored Reds thoughts. “I thought she was going to say some homeless guy or something.”

Yennefer had picked up her pace again, her head turning left and right feverishly beneath her hood. Red quickly picked up her own pace to follow ad did the same, trying to find a whore…and figure out just what a whore looked like. Somehow she thought it wouldn’t be as easy as seeing a friendly sign saying ‘Whore on duty. 10 crowns an hour’.

"For crying out loud. Where's a bloody whore when you need one?" Yennefer growled as she came to a stop at a cross roads. She cast her gaze down each of the streets, even looking behind the way they had come as well. Red copying her movements.

"Over here." Yennefer tapped red on the arm and beckoned her to follow down the street to their right.

Yennefer led her over to another woman tucked away, she was shorter than red but twice as plump, leaning with her back against the stone wall of a building, beneath the archway holding up another. She cast her eyes over the pair from between a sea yellow hair, wearing a flamboyantly bright green shirt that left her pale shoulders exposed, held up by the embroidered straps of her maroon skirt. The woman wasn’t overly old, but the years had left lines around her eyes and across her face.

Yennefer leaned against the corner of the stone building with her arms crossed, and Red stood behind her like a shadow, keeping an eye over the proceedings whilst casting the occasional look around in case of trouble.

“How would you like to make some money on your feet instead of your back?”

The old woman sniffed as she turned to face them proper. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked Yennefer up and down, giving her a third chin momentarily, and then on to Red. She made a noise at the back of her throat.

“My aren’t you two a pair of pretty young things. Suppose I could be convinced. But I charge double even if one of you just watches.”

“Oh Christ.”

“That’s on top of my charging extra for a twisted mermaid.” She shrugged with feigned regret. “My knees aren’t what they once was.”

Red shook her head violently. She did not like where this was going one bit.

“Our friend.” Yennefer continued, apparently unperturbed but Red couldn’t see her face from this angle. “He’s missing. I fear he may have got into some trouble with one of the guards down at the dock.”

The woman’s face hardened at this but she moved closer, ever so slightly, with a perverse intrigue that wiped the look of offering from her face.

Red spotted a guard come around the corner further down the street. Fear grabbed her throat. Then the guard walked into a stack of crates and brick-a-brack, knocking the pile to the ground, and then promptly stumbling over it all and falling to the ground in a heap with a loud curse. The man was drunk. While the initial fear loosened its hold slightly, Red still thought it prudent to point him out to the others, they both looked over in time to see him struggle back upright with several more cursed tumbling from his mouth.

“I need you to go to the garrison.” Yennefer continued. She ducked her head down for a moment, as did Red, as the drunken guard came stumbling by “And ask if any little shit-birds under the name of Jaskier have been caged.”

“You’re going to all that trouble; paying someone for such a simple task.” The woman narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

Yennefer simply produced a gold coin, a crown, from her cloak and the suspicion in the woman’s eyes quickly turned to hunger. Ravenous, she tried to snatch it from Yennefers grasp but the coin was pulled out of reach just as fast. The woman’s gaze followed the coin.

“Half now.” Yennefer pulled the woman’s focus back to her. “Half when you return”

A moment passed between them, Red could almost see the woman’s thoughts across her face, her eyes narrowing in thought, as she took a moment to weigh up the offer; two crowns was a lot for such a simple task.

“Who’s asking?”

“Say you are.” Yennefer explained. The woman straightened a little and again her eyes narrowed, looking to Yennefer and then to Red. “Or say ‘just some friends of his’. If I have to lay out every step to you then maybe we’ll try elsewhere.”

The woman’s eyes widened in momentary fright. “No, no, was just asking. I hear you loud and clear. Plenty of customers likes their privacy so I’ll ask no more.”

Apparently satisfied Yennefer offer up the coin to the the woman, who happily grabbed the it and then, locking eyes with Yennefer, gave it a testing bite. Red couldn’t help but give a puzzled frown wondering still why so many people did that. But clearly Satisfied with it the woman chuckled.

“Well then. Never look a gift whore in the mouth. Be seeing you.”

Cheerful as anything she sauntered past the pair of them and left them to watch her slip of into the crowded street.

The man crumpled at her feet after Red delivered a hearty wack to the back of his skull from behind. Looking up from the crumpled man she saw the elves in the caged wagon stared at her in a tense, stressful silence. Even the little girl who had been tearfully crying now stared in silence at Red, with her mothers already pulling her from the caged wagon and wrapping her arms defensively around the girl.

"What the hell Red? Some one will see us" Blue hissed in panic.

She ignored him. Casting a glance over her shoulder as she moved around to the left in the blessedly quiet street, doing what little she could to block prying eyes with her body, and frantically motioned for the elves to get out of the wagon. Panic had now put out the burning fire of injustice as if anyone came down the street or around the corner she was finished.

Mentally she chastised herself, this had been a stupid idea and had accomplished nothing but endanger herself, Yennefer, and the Elves also. Nilfgaardian guards didn’t capture Elves twice.

As the captured Elves began hoping down off the wagon she returned the Transistor to her back and delved into her bag at her hip for her little wax tablet, and quickly wrote instructions on where to find a safe house. Frustratingly, addresses or even street names weren’t common in this world where they instead relied on landmarks or buildings of importance as references and made the whole thing overly complicated. The Elves waited her to say something as they too cast their eyes about, clearly wanting to run away as fast as they could but their wrists were still bound with rope.

Red handed her tablet to the nearest bound Elf as she shot a frantic glance either side. Luckily still no one around. Using the small knife on her belt, she quickly got to work cutting away at another Elfs bindings, only for the others hurriedly swarm her and thrust their own bound wrists forward before she had even finished the first. There wasn't time to do them all! Someone could be walking down the street any second now! Red pushed the handle of the knife into the now freed Elfs hands. He got the message, muttering a quick thanks he moved away and told the others to follow.

Red didn't watch them go. Instead she focused on her next task of dealing with the collapsed man in front of her. Like a light bulb, a deliciously karmic idea came to her. She looked at the now empty cage cart with a small smile on her lips. She pulled her hood further forward, making sure her face was hidden and kept her head down. Her stomach squirmed but the burning sense of righteousness felt so good in her heart.

"What the hell was that Red?” Again, she ignored Blues reprimand. “If you had been spotted you could have gotten everyone killed…What are you doing now?"

Red didn’t care to wonder what Blues view would be right now from her back as she bent down to try and pick up the mans crumpled form. She lifted with her knees, as she had always heard to do, and as thankful that the man wasn’t all too heavy even though he was a dead weight. After a few minutes struggle, she managed to get the man into the back of his own wagon. Then running around to the front she gave the patiently waiting horse a hard smack on its rump. The animal gave a disapproving huff before it moved on down the road, ambling away without a care and taking it’s passenger away.

“Oh for crying out loud Red, really!? You don’t think that’s going to look at all suspicious? That no one is going to wonder why ”

This time, more pointedly than before, Red ignored Blue. Yes, she could have been caught, yes, someone might have just seen her, but god dammit it was the right thing to do!
She kept her anger, burning like a beacon inside her chest, as she turned to walk back towards Yennefer who had stayed lurking under the clothes hung up on lines across the narrow street. Yennefer met Reds gaze with a subtle from and a twitch of the lips of seemingly polite disapproval. But feeling stubbornly proud of herself, Red met Yenefers gaze and held her chin up high.

‘Don’t you start as well.’ She thought.

It was as she drew alongside Yennefers with the intention to pass by, that she noticed the other woman flexing her left hand for a moment before breaking eye contact and looking down at the floor, refusing to move from her spot. The momentary confusion was then broken by realisation when Red remembered that Yennefer was part Elf; her pointed ears were easily hidden by her hood but her violet eyes still put her in danger. she could have just as easily been on that wagon with all the others.

“No.” Yennefer whispered so quietly Red almost didn’t hear her.

Red came to a stop just a step past Yennefer feeling suddenly confused and worried for the other woman. Despite the many warnings and things Jaskier had said Red couldn't help but worry about Yennefer, and wonder what the other woman must be thinking or feeling at everything that was going on around her. Red tried to reach out to her, to gently touch Yennefers arm and offer some understanding or support. Reds hand stopped just shy of touching her. Red pulled back for a moment, and then reached out.

"Hello, ducks"

The voice burst the moment, and the pair of them jumped out of their skins, spinning around to see the whore from earlier. She stood just beyond the building bridge before them and pressed her back flat against the wall. Shadows from people in the street beyond cut across her face between the gaps of the hanging rugs, providing them all some partial cover from the rest of the world beyond.

"Did you find anything?" Yennefer asked, already striding over to the Red quickly following behind.

“No one by the name of Jaskier.”

A horrid moment passed and the writhing knot of worry in Reds stomach doubled in size. She stumped the ground with a growl to the heavens and Yennefer simply let out a restrained breath. Why was nothing ever easy!?

“Shit…well, it was worth a shot I suppose?“

“Oh, I feel you, darlings.” The whore said with sympathy and Yennefer paid her the remaining crown, a gold coin.

Red followed Yennefer through the gap in the rugs out of the alley and left the Whore to examine the coin. All that effort gone to waste, they were back to square one without so much as a shred of a clue to point them in the right direction. A sense of dread and hopelessness threatened to claim Red in that moment, but she pushed it away with ease that came with practise. This wasn’t the first time she had been against the odds.

“Frequent any Taverns?” The whore called to them.

Red nearly bumped into Yennefer when she stopped.

“Huh?” Yenneffer looked over at the Whore, almost in a daze of dismay.

“Just saying.” She replied with a sympathetic tone. “From experience. When I loses a man, he’s usually at the first place I found him; bottom of a bottle.” She added to make sure the pair got the message. And then she turned away and wandered off in the opposite direction.

Red looked at Yennefer, and Yennefer looked at Red.

“Well, unless you have any ideas?”

“For the record, nothing from me.”

Red weighed the idea in her head, sucking on her teeth with a grimace to show that she, for the record, did not think it was a good idea at all. But on the other hand she admittedly had no other ideas right now. Going back the the Bridled Mare wasn’t a good idea by any stretch but…it was their only idea. She closed her eyes and, against her better judgement, nodded.

“All right. Guess that’s settled.”

Coming back to The Bridled Mare went against every one of the very few smuggling instincts Red had, and even worse went against several rules she had learned since Jaskier had brought her into the fold. For starters the site was still too hot right now, used to move refugees barely 48 hours ago. Second, after the events at the Harbour who was to say the refugees hadn’t been found? Until word returned the the Huron had docked in Cintra there was no way of knowing if they had even made it out safely or had been caught in the meantime. Red understood it wouldn’t take much any of them to break and reveal the steps they had taken to escape, and possibly unravel everything. It was simply too risky, but to get Jaskier back safe and sound, it was a risk she was willing to take.

The back door to the tavern stood ajar and unattended. It was the same one the pair had left from the other night. But where before the inside had been lit with fire and mirth, it now only held darkness and silence. Like a unseen tendril, there came a faint smell from the open door of burnt pork and charcoal that made Red grimace.

This was all sorts of wrong in Reds book. She and Jaskier had used this tavern three times now and as far as she knew the back door had always been locked outside of business hours aside from the obvious exception for deliveries or visitors. But the alley it opened out to was currently empty, devoid of any life or even any sign of anyone who might come back any time soon. It was far too quiet.

Yennefer went to take a step towards the door but Red quickly jumped in front to stop her. She held up her hand when Yennefer opened her mouth to speak. Red pulled the Transistor off of her back already anticipating that she may need to fight whoever was inside. She then pointed at Yennefer, made walking motion with her fingers, pointed at herself, then finally a finger to her lips for quite.

“I can take care of myself.” Yennefer snapped no louder than a whisper, but seemed to get the message to follow, and let Red take the lead.

The pair were enveloped by darkness when they entered the basement and the sounds of life outside became eerily muffled before falling to silence when they rounded a corner. They headed towards to front end of The Bridled Mares and towards the stairs that turned a corner midway, disappearing up out of sight to the front room above them. Neither of them dared to make a sound. The silence was oppressive. There was still just enough light spilling in from outside and through cracks in the walls so the two could navigate the basement with ease, and familiarity lending Red an extra helping hand. Holding The Transistor ahead of her Red sniffed the air deeply trying to figure out what the strange smell pervading the air was. She was certain it wasn’t of pork or charcoal, but something else entirely; it was sharp and strong enough to cling uncomfortably to the back of her throat. It was an almost metallic smell.

They had reached the threshold of the sitars that would lead them up into the main room of the tavern, Red placed a foot onto the first step. Someone strode across the floor above them. They both froze. They looked up, trying to catch a glimpse between the rafters and the floorboards. The footsteps above echoed like cannon fire through the silence. Someone said something but Red struggled to pick out the words against the creaking of the floorboards being stepped on. She brought the Audio Processing Programming online, a window appearing in her mind waiting patiently for it’s auditory target.

“My lips are loose.” Jaskiers voice, slightly slurred and heavy with tiredness, came from above. A purple line in the window danced in time. “Just ask anybody.”

Even in the dingy darkness, the two of them locked eyes with each other. Yennefer had clearly heard the sentence as well. Every part of her wanted to dash up there so bad it was almost painful but something in Yennefers eyes, and her silence held Red in place in the darkness.

“Someone’s up there. Aren’t they Red?”
Red turned the Transistor in her hand so she could see it’s eye and nodded. She could hear Jaskier talking to the other person above them and a chair being moved. She heard him frantically beg, trying to explain how little he knew of Geralt; he hadn’t seen the man in months after being abandoned in Cairngorn, never met the mans Child Surprise either. The other persons voice coloured green by the programming danced and their words echoed in Reds mind.

“It’s such a shame you cant be useful.” The green line danced with the same slow, easy anticipation of the voice it represented.

“Use the other stairs, the ones behind the bar.” Blue suggested, not that he needed to.

Red had already turned and left the step and grabbing Yennefers hand, she thankfully didn’t protest but Red did see her look of outraged confusion, pulled her back through the basement to the other end of the Tavern. Red let go of Yennefers hand and led the way up the blissfully silent stairs. Red paused on the last step at the door, beyond it’s thin wood she could hear the conversation between Jaskier and the stranger. She wrapped her hand around the latch, she would have to be careful not to lift it too fast in case the metal smacked against the ring that held it against the door.

“Please. I don’t know anything.” Jaskier moaned then his voice hitched with desperation. The Audio Processing Program had the purple line dance frantically, making Reds heart do the same. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“The songs in your catalogue would suggest otherwise.” The strangers voice replied in that lazy tone and the green line moved with the same energy.

Red gritted her teeth as Jaskier began to feverishly beg and plead against the stranger doing god knew what to him. She could feel Yennefer place her hands on her back almost pushing her forwards. But Red managed to just keep her own panic contained at bay and steadily lifted the latch. Wracked with fear and guilt, she hoped Jaskiers whimpering would cover the noises she and Yennefer made, opening the door on its well worn hinges just enough to let them both scuffle though. Red emerged into the Tavern’s front room and she was assaulted by that same peculiar smell now stronger than ever. They were lucky that the door faced the back wall of the Tavern, which was lined with shelves of drinks, cups, flagons, and bowls, and not facing into the Front Room. But that was were their luck ran out as the bar itself wasn’t connected to the same wall as the door, and the space between the door and back wall was only wide enough for the door itself, so there wasn’t enough room for them both. Red bolted across the gap, between the door and the bar, to the relative safety hidden behind the bar where she could finally lay the Transistors heavy weight upon the floor. Yennefer then emerged, crouching from the door way and joined Red on the floor at the end of the bar.

Yennefer peaked around the side and Red nervously dared to peak across the top for a moment. She covered her mouth and ducked back down. Her heart had frozen in horror at the sight. Jaskier was beaten, bruised, and tied to a chair. Blood and spit dribbled from his mouth and down his chin. In the chair opposite sat another man in fine clothing, with his legs crossed and completely at ease. With one hand he held Jaskiers tightly, and in the other a flame from a lighter.

“Red, what did you see? Is Jaskier okay?” Red looked down at the Eye of the Transistor and shakily shook her head. “Shit…okay, Red. We gotta save him.”

Red nodded and pulled herself together. She grabbed hold of the Transistor and began to push herself off of the floor. Yennefers hand slammed down on her left shoulder and pulled her back down to the floor. Furious, Red looked at Yennefer who just shook her head with a completely neutral expression on her face, even as Jaskier screamed, and then begged in a desperately small voice behind them. Red mouthed ‘What?’ trying to wrap her head around how Yennefer could just listen to what was happened and not look even a little bit concerned. Yennefer then got up from the floor herself, motioning for Red to stay put. Still in shock all Red could do was watch Yennefer grab a bottle and glass from behind the counter. She watched Yennefer uncork the bottle she stood up, just as another scream was pulled from Jaskier.

“Red, what the fuck is she doing?”
Yennefer threw the glass in her hand to the ground, Red flinched away from it and the scattering shards. The sound brought everything to a stop. Lowering her arm, Red stared up at Yennefer from her hiding spot. She watched the woman stumble out of view past the end of the bar. Knowing the man would be looking in her direction Red didn’t dare peak her head up above the bar top.

“I knew I’d find you here. You lazy lout.” Yennefer slurred her words above the relieved laughter from Jaskier. Red could even hear her stumble on feigned unsteady feet and even adding a hiccup to sell the bit. “Leaving me at home to rot.”

“Uh…uh…” Jaskier frantically stammered in a panic. “This is– this is my wife. She has nothing to do with this. Please let her go-”

The man cut him off. That voice so quiet but held weight that demanded it be followed, that expected it would be followed. The Man demanded Yennefer to leave if she knew what was good for her.

“Red. You have to do something!”
Red couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t stand the frantic buzz of adrenaline coursing through her veins, the fear, the worry, the horror. She shuffled over to the end of the bar and peaked around only to see the back of Yennefers purple cloak obscuring the man from view.

“If you knew what was good for you.” Yennefer spoke, still slurring her words. “You’d shut the fuck up.”

A horribly tense moment passed.

Yennefer was pushed sideways by the man as he stood up. Ignoring Jaskiers pleas, he slammed her against the wooden pillar. The bottle shattered on the ground and splashing shards of glass and drink at their feet.

Turn()
{

Red pushed herself up from the ground. Striding across the floor she saw him. Through the haze of blue grid-work and vector points she saw the man in the fancy green shirt, his shoulder length brown hair, and a horrid grin came into view as she moved to face him from the side.

Any other time she would’ve been startled to see that it hadn’t been a lighter, but the tip of his index finger from where the flame had come from.

But that wasn’t important right now. He held Yennefer by her throat against the wooden pillar.

Crash()

The function worked best from behind an enemy but she couldn’t risk the man falling on Yennefer.

}

The world snapped back into full colour, back into focus. Her body sprang up from the floor and she strode across the floor, following the memory of her ghost, the Transistor trailing behind her in her grip kept with its tip just above the ground.

A flash of fire bloomed on the mans face and he howled in pain. His hands flew to his face, letting Yennefer go, as he reared backwards. But Red's body continued along its path, and when she arrived beside the howling man, she lifted the Transistor high in both hands with its tip pointing downward.

Yennefer looked at Red with wild eyes and then, possibly sensing something was about to happen, launched herself behind Red.

Red slammed the Transistor down and an explosion of force and light erupted from it that threw the man across the floor away from them. He skidded and rolled across the floor, still screaming in pain, before he collided with a set of chairs where he continued to writhe.

Red spun on her heel to face Yennefer. Yennefer pulled her eyes, now the size of dinner plates, up from the man to meet Red with a look of shock.

"Don’t just fucking stand there." Jaskier shouted, dragging them both to the present. "Let me out. Let me of this chair. Hurry!"

Scrambling into motion, Yenefer undid the rope tying him down and pulled Jaskier to his feet, and Red grabbed his coat lying nearby. She took a moment to thank her lucky stars the man had politely left it nearby when he had tied up and beaten Jaskier.

Ahead of her Yennefer crashed though The Bridled Mare’s front doors and out into the dazzling sunlight. Momentarily blinded by the light Red nearly lost her footing down the stairs and was followed by the mans shrieks still ringing in her ears behind her. Yennefer struggled to run hunched over and weighed down by Jaskier hanging, half draped over her shoulders. But it was clear that he couldn't run by himself with every step pulling barely muffled whimpers out of him. Red brought up the rear with his coat under one arm, and still holding the unwieldy Transistor in her other hand trying to stop it bouncing against the ground. Her feet pounded the muddy ground she followed the other two this way and that, barging or pushing through people headless to their angry shouting.

Finally, after sprinting through streets and buildings blurring past them all, they made one last turn and came to a juddering halt between two houses and the lines of washing. Yennefer ceremoniously dumped Jaskier on the ground against a door. The three were left puffing and panting for a few minutes as each struggled to catch their breath. They were all exhausted from a mix of terror and adrenaline.

Bent double and gasping for air Red cursed the pop up in her mind declaring she had reached her daily steps goal. Now she had started cursing things Red knew she had been in this world for far too long.

"Who the fuck was that?" Jaskier gasped.

Red had no idea and shook her head. She stumbled towards Jaskier on shaky legs knelt down beside him, propping the Transistor against the wall for a moment so she could put his coat over his shoulders drawing a hiss of pain from the man as she pushed him forward slightly.

"How should I know? You were the one who was kidnapped." Yennefer snapped back at him from where she was now paced back and forth between the washing lines. Her hood had fallen back during their mad run through the streets and exposed the frantic look on her face.

"Oh what, you don’t all share an alma mater?” He looked at Red as well, Red simply scowled back with a mix of being puzzled and insulted. But Jaskier continued. “Did neither of you catch him at the last Alumni event?"

Red threw out her hands in an obvious ‘what are you talking about?’ gesture, but he just scoffed at her and rolled his eyes. She grabbed his chin with a bit more force than was necessary, trying to get a better look at the wounds on his face. She tried to hold back a grimace at the dried blood that had dripped out of his nose, a split in his lip and down his chin, his left eye was starting to swell and darken with a promise of a bruise. To top it all off, the rancid smell of singed hair which clung onto him made it easy to guess what had made his right ear look so angry and red.

"You know I was really looking forward to some thank yours and some real genuflection." Red could hear the exasperated look on Yenefers face, even without looking at her.

"He's after Geralt." Jaskiers gaze pulled away from Reds, to over her shoulder at Yennefer.

Red let go of his chin and pulled her lips into a thin line with worry. She was at least somewhat reassured that other than some cuts, bruises and burns she couldn’t see anything that was broken so Jaskier would probably make a full recovery, but it was going to be painful and he was going to complain every moment of it.

“Should we be scared or reassured by that?” Blue, again, reflecting Reds own thoughts and worries.

It was good that it wasn’t their work getting Elves to Cintra was the reason Jaskier had been kidnapped. But given how Famous this Geralt was, and how well known Jaskier was for his songs about him, Red couldn’t but worry if this might just be the start of something. She cast a look up at Yennefer for an answer.

Yennefer looked between Red and Jaskier. "What? Why? What would he want with him?"

Red huffed with disappointment and annoyance, of course it wouldn’t be that easy. She turned her focus to Jaskiers hands, especially his right which was now turning a frightening shade of red around the blacked spot on his index finger. She grabbed his forearm and pulled his hand closer praying the black smudge was just soot and not an incredibly bad burn.

"Y'know, I assumed it was to drink tea and dri-ow! Shit." Jaskier whipped his hand back and held it close to his chest, scowling at Red. "Can you just…not do that right now? We're trying to have a conversation here."

Red clicked her tongue at him with a scowl of her own but let him pull away. It had definitely been a burn underneath, if only there was a cold tap nearby, but how to treat it? Red stood up and turned to the white linen hanging on the line, prompting her to think of at least one idea of what to do.

“How bad is it, Red?”

Red threw a grimace over to the Transistor and paid little attention to Yennefer and Yaskier, instead choosing to focus on her own task.

‘Not good.’

“Ah.” Then came an inhale of breath. “Well we still have some water we could run over it. I don’t think it will be cold but it should do the job?…hey wh-Red, what are you doing?”

Finding a hole in the shirt sleeve she had liberated from the washing line, Red grunted and pulled apart the fabric with a tremendous ‘riiiiiiiip’. In one hand she held up the strip of fabric she had just torn, and the other the newly distressed shirt. She turned to show off her handy work to the other three, Yennefer and Jaskier both looking at her as if she were slightly mad.

“Why?” Jaskier asked, looking more appalled than anything.

“Ah, a bandage? Well, suppose it’s better tha-company!”

“What’s going on here?” A voice barked from behind.

Red dropped both pieces of fabric with a yelp, turning around to face the intruder, and instinctively moved backwards towards the wall next to Jaskier, to grab the Transistor.

The man emerging from behind the sheets of washing had a mean, lop-side smirk nestled between curtains of brown hair. He didn’t stand any taller than Yaskier but clearly knew how to use what bulk he had for intimidation. He loomed over the trio, moving forwards with a steady gait and tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his sleeveless leather jacket to better show off the maroon arms of his shirt which bulge with a small flex. Two other men with equally mean looks came from between the laundry dressed in similar garb of clearly lower quality than their apparent leader, flanked him on each side from behind. The man on the left cracked his neck.

“Uh, gentlemen.” Yaskier pushes himself up off the floor and stammered his way between the men, Yennefer and Red. “Good morning. Good to see you. You’re certainly looming.”

Paying Jaskier no mind, the leading mean man in his leather jacket side stepped him and cast his eyes over Yennefer and Red with a gaze that made Red's stomach clench in equal fear and disgust. His eyes came back up after slowly roving their way down her, and he smiled after obviously trying to undress her with his eyes alone.

“Ah.” He breathed. “Are we working this morning, my dears? I’ll happily pay for the pair of you.” He chuckled darkly, and the two men behind him copied loyally.

Red saw Yennefer beside her stiffen and suck in a breath. She stepped forward and swung her leg hard into the leading mans crotch. The man grunted, his eyes crossing and cheeks bulging in pain before he collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Red couldn’t hold in a sudden burst of nervous laughter. The other two men stared down at their fallen leader folding in on himself and puffing hard, trying to hold back the obvious tears in his eyes. Yennefer stuck around for a moment to spit on the man before turning tail and sprinting off. Red took her lead and, grabbing him by the collar, shoving Jaskier forward the way Yennefer had ran, without waiting for any of the three men to recover.

Back out into a main street the trio charged through more lines of washing, hopping over debris and rocks poking out of the mud. Red pushed Jaskier along, then slipped beside him and holding him up by his arm. Ahead, Yennefer came to a sudden stop at a crossroads, Jaskier and Red nearly crashing into her where the three stood for a frightening second trying to figure out which way to go. It was Jaskier who decided and roughly pulled them both by the arm and thrust them down the street to their right, with the cries of the men chasing them, barking furiously at their heels. The Transistor was still in Reds hands and banged painfully against her shins but it was too awkward for her to try and stick back on her back while running. They came to another skidding stop in what looked like a small market, surrounding them on all sides and blocking off any clear way to escape. There was no time to for Red to stop and think, there were stalls with awnings, chickens clucking at her feet, people shouting around her, and adrenaline pumping through her veins. Nearly bumping into Yennefer she threw her gaze this way and that trying to spot a way out.

“Quickly, split up.” Jaskier slipped from her grip, spun her by her shoulder and shoved her towards a market stall lined with fruit. “Uh , uh Red go that way. Yennefer over there.

“They found us!”

Red hurriedly returned the Transistor to her back and did the buckle just in time to hear a crashing sound to her left down the street and a flurry of clucking. She turned just in time to locked eyes with the first Mean Man, now red with fury, picking himself up off the floor. He jabbed a finger, shouting at her. There was no time to think. She surged forwards towards the stall Jaskier had pushed her towards. The Woman manning the stall gave a short cry and threw up her arms. Red twisted herself to be side on and tried to slip down the narrow gab between the stall and the other, only managing to get through by knocking over the boxes of fruit. She momentarily turn to offer a grimace of regret at the woman before sprinting off. With her arms free, and legs pumping like pistons she tore down the narrow street. She bound over pots, cages, and barged her way between the crowd, anything she could to get some distance between her and her pursuers. She heard another crash and more cries behind her.

“One them’s still after us, Red! He’s gaining on us.”

Red gritted her teeth and pushed air into her screaming lungs. Curse this infernal place and muddy paths. What she wouldn’t do for a proper sidewalk, or even her bike! She could feel every pebble, every rock, every horrid piece of rubbish through the bare soles of her boots. Hell, she would even be happy with a pair of decent running shoes at this point.

Spotting a corner coming up ahead of her, an idea came to her, she stuck out a hand to latch onto the building with her fingers digging in like claws the the timber frame and swung herself round into the alley. Quick as anything, she slipped the Transistor back off her back and, holding it like a batter readying to strike, she waited. Her heart beating wildly in her ears and breath juddering in her throat.

The sound of someone running was getting closer, feet slapping against the ground and she could hear whoever it was puffing hard.

Red steadied her breath and planted her feet, digging her heels down into the ground. The sound of running came closer, and closer, bringing with it a shadow came into view. She pulled the Transistor back to gain momentum, and then swung it up and wide, slamming hard into the mans face as he rounded the corner with a jarring, satisfying, sickening crunch. But while his upper body came to stop his feet tried to keep going up and flipped him right onto his back with a thud.

“Oh he’s going to feel that in the morning.” Mr Nobody winced with pride.

At her feet the man groaned feebly, but made no effort to get up. Red waited to see if anyone else would come around the corner but after a minutes silence, apart from the man now sniffling and curling into a ball at her feet. Red left the man to his whimpering on the floor as blood dribbled out of his now mangled nose.

Satisfied that no one else was going to round the corner she strapped the Transistor to her back once again and stepped back out onto the street to retrace her steps. Hurrying down the road as she focused on trying to massage the ache from her elbows and shoulders, she set her mind to trying to find Jaskier and Yennefer again hoping they hadn’t gone too far or ended up in trouble.

Chapter Text

Blue lay on his side with one half of his face buried in the pillow staring at Red. Red was facing him from her side of the bed with her eyes still closed, fast asleep, and hair draping over her face like maddened cobwebs. She wasn’t much to look at the morning, a comment he would get a playful slap a rebuttal for anytime he said it, and it always made him smile to see her still lying next to him when he awoke.

It was a Saturday morning and one of the very few Saturdays when neither of them had to work, Blue wasn't on shift till tomorrow and he had managed to convince Red last night that she deserved the day off from writing or scoring music.

“Red, you have been playing the same note for four hours.” He had said.

“No!” She had snapped back from within the pile of scrawled sheet music with her hands curled around the neck of a guitar, almost strangling the instrument. “I’ve been swapping between a minor and a major for the past four hours. They’re completely different.”

A small spat broke out between the two and dinner was horribly forgotten and then left burning in the oven. They ordered pizza and Red begrudgingly accepted that she needed a break, but only after Blue apologised for not knowing the obvious difference between a minor and major note. Blue still didn’t quite see the difference between the two but he wasn’t the musician in the relationship.

And now here he was was, staring at her through one eye with half his face buried into the pillow having just woken up. He took a deep breath to draw in the sweet, floral smell of her perfume from a few days ago that still lingered on the pillow case. Beyond her he could just peak through the blinds to the frost encrusted window of the winter morning. He had checked the weather polls last night just before bed so knew that just outside that window freshly laid snow had neatly carpeted itself on the lawns, rooftops and designated balconies of Highrise. But inside Reds apartment all was safe and comfortably warm where he lay wrapped up in the light and thin bed sheets on the other side of the bed.

Perfectly content. Blue half rolled, half shuffled with a small groan onto his back and checked the time. The red numbers of the digital clock shone when he tapped the little button on top its little rectangular form. He was still half asleep so it took him a few moments to fully undertand the numbers. 10:50am. The perfect time to roll back over and go back to sleep.

“How are you supposed to use this?” Red had asked when he had started moving some of his things into her apartment.

He remembered, smiling at the memory, how she had held the old digital clock and tried to get her NIRV to connect to it while it was still unplugged.

“You have to push a button to turn it off?” She had looked almost galvanised by the thought, testing the large button on top with a loud ‘click’.

“Well that button actually is just the Snooze button.” He had explained, taking the very old device from her hands. “You have to push this other button to turn off the alarm, and hold this one while pushing these other buttons to choose when the alarm goes off.”

The look she gave him then had been nothing compared to the next morning when the alarm had gone off. Red had even threatened to throw it out the window the next time. But of course she hadn’t. And after a while she had even disabled the alarm in her NIRV.

“I like waking up when you do.” She had explained one morning, applying lipstick in front of her mirror when preparing for their date that day. “And the NIRV alarm doesn’t have a ‘snooze’ function. So much for progress!”

Enjoying the satisfying glow in his chest from the memory, Blue rolled-slash-shuffled back to face Red again still fast asleep on the other side of the bed. He closed his eyes hoping to maybe catch a bit more sleep. 

Annoyngly though, sleep did not come. Even after lying still and waiting to fall back to sleep Blue found that he simply couldn't. He was too awake to sleep but too comfy to get up. As he pondered what to do, a mischievous thought came to him.

Still with his eyes closed, Blue began to shuffle his legs over towards Red. With devilish delight he moved towards her underneath the sheets, bit by bit closing the vast distance of empty bed between them, and feeling the warmth of her legs as he drew ever closer. And then he arrived and wrapped his legs around hers. His evil plan came to fruition in moments as Red groaned and then squeaked in sleepy protests as she tried to untangle her legs from his.

He chuckled and then laughed, only wrapped his legs tighter around hers.

“Piss off.” Red growled with a huff, wrenching her legs from his after much flailing of limbs and bed sheets. “How are your feet so cold? I was fast asleep, you bloody dick head.”

Through the bouncing of the mattress he felt her turn away from him and then with a tremendous tug, wrenching the bed sheet entirely off of him and wrap herself in it.  Blue quickly wrapped his arms around himself after suddenly finding himself, completely naked and exposed to the comparatively cold air of the bedroom.

“I wouldn’t be so cold if you didn’t steal the sheets.” He retorted and shuffled his whole self closer to her. His hands quickly finding a gap between the bed sheets and the matress to slip in through.

“No.” Red whined, even as she lifted her head and arm for him to slipped his arms around her. “You don’t even use them to keep warm.”

“Don’t need any with you around. You’re a radiator. Seriously.”

Blue pressed his naked chest against her naked back and drank in her warmth as he nuzzled and pecked the back of her neck, and then blowing a few rasberries when her hair go in his mouth. He adored hearing her little chuckles. Blue held her tight against him and was delighted to once again feel Red pull his arms tight against her. The pair of them enjoying the sleepy morning, perfectly content.

Chapter Text

Dark clouds upon the dark sky drifted were all Istredd could see framed by the wall of the ravine he found himself in, of the toppled Marnadal Monolith, several leagues away from Cintra. His heart was still thumping rapidly in his chest like a maddened drum, and blood pounded loudly in his ears. The beast had fled by flying up out of the top of the ravine, scales of stone covering its wings had left deep horizontal slashes in the sheer walls of earth and rock, and had rained stones upon him barely a few minutes ago ago. If the beast was still there above him the rolling dark clouds above where hiding it from view. To make matters worse the heavens had opened and rain now pouring down and already making small muddy puddles at his feet. His mind buzzed with questions, they pinged and bounced madly from side to side, doing loop-de-loops like maddened birds desperate for answers.

“Who was that girl who called to you?” Istredd pulled his gaze down to the Witcher standing nearby. “And what the hell was that thing?”

The Witcher was a tall man, and broad with muscle beneath his black leather shirt and thick wool cloak. He met Met Istredds gaze past loose locks of white hair that had escaped his hood, but didn’t respond. Fury started to boil under Istredds skin; their conversations on the Monolith itself and the suspected, but absent monster nests suggested that the Witcher knew something that he wasn’t letting on.

“Do you think Nilfgaard knows about this?” A horrid thought, but it would explain the armed guards they had had to fight on the way.

“Open a Portal.” The Witcher snapped. Urgency laced his voice. “Now.”

“Answer the question.” Istredd snapped back.

“Why should I?”

The was a noise like a birds chirp, small and quick but warbled more than the walls of rock and earth around then should have done. It silenced the two of them. They both snapped their heads to where it had come from, hidden by the shifting walls of the ravine.

Whatever Istredd had been about to say died in his throat. Not event daring to breathe, he strained his ears trying to listen again for that noise. He couldn’t hear anything else. He took in a breath to ask a question, but was silenced by The Witcher holding up a finger for quite, without even turning to look back at him. Istredd watched the Witcher lower slowly to the floor and begin to undo the straps around the bag he had been carrying on their journey with surprising silence, a skill undoubtedly honed by many years of practice. Istredd’s gaze kept flicking anxiously up to the rock wall ahead of them for whatever might be hiding beyond to come marching around the corner, then down to the assortment of different blades now revealed in their straps with the Witchers bag. The Witcher withdrew a short-sword and a dagger, holding them in his right and left hands respectively, the blades shone even in the meagre light that reached them.

The Witcher then folded the bag closed with his foot, again with surprising silence, before giving the merest twitch of his head to Istredd as the signal for him to follow. Istredd didn’t quite know if he should feel complimented or not that the Witcher thought he might be useful in the fight, but it was one Istredd would rather have avoided. He took a moment to pull himself together, to pull the unseen strands of chaos around to him ready just in case. He then gave a nod to the Witcher.

The pair began making their way forward. Istredd was all too aware that out of them both it was him making the most noise. Where The Witcher was able to move silently, he managed to find any and every lose rock and pebble hidden in the mud, and the noise seemed to be all the louder for the frantic nerves running through his limbs like lightning.

The Witcher lead the way to the rough corner in the ravine with Istredd only two steps behind him, peering over the other mans shoulder around the corner. From this point on, the ravine stretched from where they stood in an almost completely straight line to the crumpled remains of the Monolith that they had scaled down a few hours ago, spilling down to the ravine floor like a raging river frozen in time and coloured black. Directly ahead of them sat something incredibly strange; as far as Istredd could tell it wasn’t a creature of any sort but more like a Construct. The rain pattered against surface of the Construct and ran in rivulets down its sides, whatever material it was made of was unlike anything he had ever seen. Even The Witcher in front of him came to a halt and Istredd watched the back of the mans hood tilt to the side a little in puzzlement.

The strange Construct was roughly the size of a large dog, even as it hovered a few inches off the ground. Most of its bulk was comprised of one large white sphere with four upside down petals, the points facing down to the ground, spinning from about a third of the way down. Its magical nature was obvious as there was nothing holding these separate pieces together. The whole Construct was a stunning, marble white except from the petals lower half being black as coal. It was a marvellous device, it held Istredds attention unreservedly, and in his awe completely doing away with the fear from earlier. Here was something new. Here was something unknown. Here was something, he felt, he knew, could advance civilisation, if he could just figure out what it was.

“What is that?” Istredd breathed.

A warbled chirp, that same warbled chirp they had heard, came from the Construct. The Sphere spun to reveal a single, red eye taking up almost an entire side of it. The eye shone bright like fire, ruby red light spilling out before it it, and was complete with an iris the colour of blood which was surrounded by a ring of the same colour. The Construct’s eye spun left and right, up and down, and then snapped its gaze towards them both.

The Witcher barely turned his head towards Istredd but the growl of annoyance still came loud and clear. But The Witcher didn’t make any further moves, and neither did the Construct. Istredd’s stomach did several flips however.

“I don’t know.” The Witcher spoke after another minute of tense silence.

“It might not be hostile after all.” The suggestion got The Witcher to turn and shoot Istredd an incredulous look. Istredd let out an exasperated huff. “ Look, It hasn’t attacked us-”

“Yet.”

“And, you don’t know what it is; and it looks no Monster that I know off. It looks more like a machine, a Construct of some kind.”

“It’s from another Sphere. We can’t make any assumptions about it.” The Witcher turned back towards the Construct.

The Construct still hadn’t moved from where it was watching them both with its large crimson eye. Suddenly, it began to shake and the sphere drew down slightly amongst the petals still spinning around it like it was trying to hide itself from view.

“Exactly my point that we don’t know enough about it. We mustn’t make do anything rash or that could prompt it to attack. Look it’s even begun shaking.” Istredd pointed around The Witcher. A feeling of dread was starting to take hold as he watched the Construct. He could hear a soft whine coming from it. “Perhaps it’s scared?”

“In my experience a scared Monster is a dangerous one.” The Witcher lowered slightly, falling into combat position. His left hand, still holding the dagger, looked to reach onto the medallion he wore around his neck. “It’s not magic.” There was surprise in his voice.

Istredd held back a question as he already knew the answer, in theory anyway; that a Witchers Medallion could detect magic in all its forms. But then what did that mean about the Construct? The Constructs design defied all he knew of construction and mechanics, which wasn’t a lot admittedly, and yet it was not magic. He slotted away the tid-bit of information away in his mind to mull over later. He opened his mouth to make another suggestion.

The Construct burst.

Istredd flinched and ducked behind his arm and then, not wanting to miss anything, came back up just as quickly.

Where the Construct had been was now something new. The new Construct stood on three legs which held the orb at its centre aloft despite none being connected to it. The legs were made of three sections that shrank in size to the ground, also completely disconnected from each other. One more limb in the same shape as it’s three legs extended straight upward like a flag pole. Just like the first Construct, it was almost entirely marble white, except for the red orb sitting almost entirely covered at it’s centre by white helmet. A burning, crimson eye gazed out at them from the downward arrow slit in its helmet. The Construct gave a warbled cry as it scuttled on its three legs, strafing to its left, their right.

The Witcher span on his heels and pushed Istredd hard in the chest. “Get down.”

The wind was knocked out of Istredd as he landed hard on his back, and rubble bit sharply into him.

The Construct gave its warbled chirp again, and from seemingly no where two small wings of that same marble white material appeared on either side of its helmet. Light burst forward from it, scorching the air, burning towards The Witcher. The Witcher lunged to the right avoiding the beam of light. Istredd slammed his skull back down and the light flew above him so bright he had to close his eyes. but it still burned pink through his eye lids, as if he were facing the midday sun. A strange smell like that after a lightning strike filled his nose. The light vanished and Istredd rapidly blinked hard as he pulled himself back up to face the Construct just in time to see the wings of the Constructs helmet disappear. It began its maddened scuttling dance, confined to roving more backwards and forwards in the narrow space of the ravine than side to side, towards The Witcher.

The Witcher was copying the Constructs movements strafing left and right, backwards and forwards, hoping from foot to foot just to keep up with its strange dance. He kept his sword held forward and his dagger in reverse grip by his thigh. The Witcher was shuffling backwards towards him and away from the advancing Construct,.

Istredd scrambled to his feet as the Witcher drew level to him, momentarily turning over and facing away from the Construct. He heard that warbled chirp again from behind him and the Witcher shouted a warning. Istredd could feel the heat building behind him, see the walls of the ravine on either side beginning to light up with his shadow stretching out ahead and running down the path. He snatched at the tendrils of Chaos, wrapping them around his fingers, and spun on his heel, twisting Chaos into form that rippled the air in front of him and The Witcher. The beam of light smashed into, and then splashed across the Quen, across the hardened air and obscuring the Construct from view. The light was so bright Istredd had trouble keeping his eyes open. The light faded just as suddenly and left Istredd frantically blinking away the spots in his vision. He could hear the Construct moving and a burning red arrow grew at the centre of his vision.

“Drop the Quen.” The Witcher ordered. Istredd obeyed.

The shadow of the Witcher flashed forward on his right. There was a warbled screech as the Constructs eye was pierced by the Witchers sword stabbing into it up to almost halfway and the red light stained the steel like blood. The Witcher withdrew his sword and stepped back, already readying a brutal swing coming from the right. The Construct dodged the incoming swing by scuttling left to the wall and then scuttling right up it using the forth limb to help it climb out of reach. The Witcher swore up at it.

Another warbled chirp, wings appearing on the helmet, accompanied the next beam of light. The Witcher lunged out the way again. But the beam of light was faster and burned across his right forearm, clawing a cry of pain from his throat. The beam continued its path and swung towards Istredd, leaving a red trail of white hot rock behind it. Istredd frantically grasped the Chaos again into a new form in his fist, and threw it up towards the dazzling origin of the beam. The Aard hit its mark with a satisfying thud and the beam fell from its perch while throwing the rest of it in wild directions. Istredd felt pain slice across his body, arching from his right hip and up to his left shoulder and tearing a ragged scream from him. He collapsed and curled in on himself, eyes shut tightly against the burning pain. He could hear the sounds of metal on metal accompanied by hard working grunts and a shrill cry for a few moments longer before it all fell quite.

“Let me see.” Hands were on his shoulder, more pain, forcing him over onto his back “Let me see dammit.”

It was The Witcher. Prising his eyes open Istredd saw The Witcher look down on him, kneeling at his side, those piercing yellow eyes looking from his own and then to where his hands were working to unfurl Istredd. He allowed himself to uncurl, sucking on his teeth and a new wave of pain ran along his stomach and a strange smell that accompanied lightning strikes assaulted him. Even the Witcher’s nose curled at it, at whatever wounds he saw. Dread and fear filled Istredd. It felt like knives were still slicing along the wound. He didn’t dare look and instead focused intently on the lip of the canyon wall above.

“How bad?” He gasped. Even breathing hurt.

“You’ll live.” The Witcher stood back up. “But it will scar.”

Istredd dared to look down at himeself then and he immediately regretted. Even in the dim light the damage was obvious. A trail as wide as his wrist had burned completely through his clothes, the blackened material of his shirt and jacket traced the charred edges of burned flesh like an angry river of white from his right hip to his opposite shoulder. He groaned in horror and pain. He felt like he was going to throw up. He let his head fall back gently and kept his eyes closed in a vain attempt to steady himself against the waves of pain and nausea assaulting him. Any movement in his stomach regnant brought knives of agony tracing the burns boundaries, even breathing

He could hear The Witcher moving about, a clattering of pebbles and stones coming from past his feet in the direction of where the Construct had been.

“Did you kill it?” He asked trying to keep his breathing slow and shallow.

He jumped, and immediately regretting it when something clattered next to his head. He turned and saw the sphere from the Construct looking the same as it had before changing form in two uneven pieces. He frowned at it and, despite his burns screaming at him to stay still, picked up the two pieces in each hand and gently matched them together. The smaller of the two pieces was roughly a quarter of it whole. He continued to frown at the dead eye staring at him.

“It stopped each time it used its….spell.” The Witcher’s words were slow and deliberate, either from deep thought or from uncertainty. “The armour at the front is strong so best to attack from behind, if you’re fast enough, otherwise aim for the slit in it’s armour.

“It Changed back?” He pulled the two pieces apart and began looking at its innards. His eyes lit up at the golden pathways, a miniature labyrinth in his hands with small bridges of varying colours crossing to different levels, barrels on tiny metal stands, black insects with metal legs. He had no idea what any of it was but it was marvellous to look at it. “This…this is definitely no monster this is…I have no idea but this is…unbelievable.” He laughed despite himself, giddy with excitement at this strange Construct might be hiding.

“No.” A hand came down and snatched one half from him.

“Wait, hold on.” He started to protest. The Witcher snatched the other piece way. Pushing past the pain Istredd stumbled back up. Through gritted teeth his said. “That-that thing needs to be studied. We need to figure out what it is and how it works.”

The Witcher rounded on him. “No. You. Do. Not.” At each word he had stepped forward and jabbed with a pointed finger into Istredds chest. “Unless you want me to remind you what happened the last time Mages tried to meddle with things from other spheres?”

“That was a long time ago, you cant seriously still bla-”

“A long time ago for mortals.” Yellows eyes burned into him. “But us Witchers are still cleaning up your mess. In case you had forgotten. Now open a portal.” He turned away again and back to packing his weapons and the pieces of the decapitated Construct into his bag. Istredd felt panic reach a fever pitch seeing the black and white petals disappear into a pocket.

“No.” Istredd spat. The Witcher stopped.

“Open a Portal.” The Witcher turned. Anger simmered in his voice. “Now”

Istredd threw out an arm and let it fall. “You haven’t even told me where.”

“Yspaden.”

“Don’t know where that is.” He lied. The Witcher glared, fury coming off in near visible waves. “But I have a map, back at my study. If you tell me where it is I can get you there.”

The fury faded a little from The Witcher who turned back to finish packing his things.

“Give me the Construct.”

“No.” The Witcher stood, slinging the bag back over his shoulder and out of Istredds reach.

“You want me to open a Portal, to Yspaden? Back to whoever that girl was that we heard. Am I right? And you need to get there fast.” Istredd knew he was pushing his luck. He knew the rumours about Witchers weren’t always just rumours. But he held a sizeable bargaining chip. “So hand over the Construct. Give it to me and I’ll Portal you there. No questions asked.”

Geralt crashed through the heavy doors of Caer Morhan scatting the flakes of snow falling from his hair and cape across the floor before him. The chatter and noise of conversion came to a crash halt around him as the few Witchers dotted around the Main Hall looked up at him, fleeting looks of joy quickly turned to concern. It was clear that he probably looked about as tired as he felt. But Time was of the essence, he couldn’t stop for a second. He had lied to the Mage Istredd by pointing on the map close to The Killer; the path hidden amongst the forest surrounding Kaer Morhen, which had been, as expected, not actually on the map.

The path was hard enough to find even in the middle of Faeinn, even for a Witcher, and took Geralt several miles and hours of scouting to do so. Once he had, though he had taken at a sprint, forcing himself to keep running up and down The Killers undulating path, through its rocky tunnels, and over its icy river, all the way to the grumbling keep with his cloak trailing behind him like a frenzied shadow. His chest burned with each heaving breath he dragged into his rattling lungs and sweat dripped down his face.

“Where is Ciri?” His voice scratched his throat. He stumbled forwards and down the stairs, his knees buckling under the strain of rest.

“Whoa, steady there Geralt.” Coen, a man of darker skin and slimmer build than Geralt, ran up to catch him.

“Ciri.” Geralt repeated, clinging onto Coen as he looked into the other Witchers brown eyes, and then past him to the rest of the room. “Where is she?”

He kept looking around the main all, over the wooden tables and faces of other wtichers expecting to see them all in mid combat, ready to face whatever danger was hiding above them in the shadows pouring down from the high ceilings. But there was nothing, no battle, no monsters, no enemy he could see. None of the other Witchers were wearing their full armour and most had goblets or bowls of food in their hands instead of weapons.

“Last I saw she was with Triss and Vesemir.” Coen replied while trying to pull Geralt towards the nearest bench. “What’s wrong Geralt?”

“I don’t know.” Geralt fought passed the pounding headache and pushed himself off of Coen with a pained grunt, his limbs begging for rest. “Where are they now?”

“Last I saw they was heading to the Lab.” Lambert said from the other side of the table and pointing with his ginger beard over his shoulder to the archway at the back of the hall.

“Why?” Alarm bells rang frantically in Geralts mind. He saw the other Witchers sharing puzzled glances with each other.

“Triss has been giving her magic lessons.” Said one.

“Not normally at this time though.” Said another.

“No triss was over on the walls last I checked. Came running through here like her ass was on fire.” Lambert turned to them both while pointing to the main doors past Geralt.

Geralt was already barrelling past them all towards the doorway at the other end of the hall, His bag crashing to the ground and cloak flying away behind him. The empty corridors echoed and bounced his speeding footfalls, laughing at him.

He had to get to Ciri. Something was wrong.

The only saving grace he could see was that none of the other Witchers were on high alert, so he still had time. It was that thought that kept him upright and powering down the stairs towards the Lab.

Geralt clawed at the stone when he hit the bottom of the stairs and swung himself through the doorway to the Labratory. Across the table at the centre of the room he saw clear across it and into a room, a room that had remained locked since he was a boy. The forbidden door was now open as a wound. Inside he saw Ciri lying down, tied down by her wrists and ankles to a bed with Vesemir leaning over her.Geralts blood turned to ice. The old Witcher was leaning over her with a syringe in hand. Geralt charged into the past the table. The syringe in Vesemirs hand held a black liquid in its bublous body. He flew through the open wound of a door into the forbidden room. The needle of the syringe in Vesemirs hand pressing down onto the skin of Ciris forewarm.

The Laboratory was empty. Just as Geralt had demanded it. He had sent Ciri to go and pack her things, and then wait for him in the Great Hall. He had sent Vesimer away as well, nearly biting the fools head off for good measure. So now he was alone in the Laboratory with his right arm tucked in tightly to his stomach with the burn now coated in a healthy layer of ointment to soothe the pain and help the healing process.

Geralt busied himself in furious silence trying to finish his work as quickly and efficiently as he could. On the table he had placed a wooden board and laid upon it the little squares he had found around where the Construct had exploded in the ravine. He had managed to gather a dozen of them, ranging in size from as small as a thumb nail to the size of his palm, and each coloured either a marvellous marble white or the pitch black of night. To the right of the tiles, he had drawn a rough picture of both the Construct’s forms on some parchment with an arrow leading from the small form to its larger form, alongside some notes on the behaviours he had managed to observe during his fight.

For starters, was the fact the Construct was able to almost completely change its appearance in an instant. Not many monsters could do so and even fewer could do it at such a speed. Secondly, the Construct had stopped moving every time it use it’s magic, he had no other way to describe the attack it had used even though his medallion had remained completely silent and inert with each. He noted down that thought before moving on the the next point. Third, the material that he Constrcut was made out of, or at least the tiles it had expelled on transformation, was completely new to him and he couldn’t figure out what it was by either the weight or look of it.

Geralt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while wishing he had the time to do a thorough investigation on the material, and even more so that he had the Construct itself. But, he reassured himself, if anywhere would have anything on what the Construct might be it would be Melitele’s temple.

Turning away from the table and to the large book case dominating the wall opposite he becam furiously scanning the shelves laden with various stained books, alchemical instruments, and jars of labelled and unlabelled ingredients taking up any spare inch for something that might prove useful. He let out a breath through his nose in frustration; if there was a system for finding what you needed on the shelf, Geralt had never found it.

The sound of moving cloth and footsteps descending down stone steps ticked his ears, footsteps trying hard not to be heard. The footsteps were too light to be one of the other Witchers, not that they would try to hide their presence, and they were too controlled to be Ciris frantic stumbles down the old steps. So that left only one other person it could possibly be.

The footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs with a gentle swish of a dress hem upon the floor and in the corner of his eye Geral saw her, Triss, appear in the doorway to his left. He could hear her heart beating frantically in her chest and the strain of her breath held tight at a steady rhythm. Geralt continued his frantic search of the shelf with his left hand while pointedly refusing to look over to her and she didn’t speak.

The silence dragged on for a minute with only the sounds of Geralt moving jars on the shelf. It was like trying to fill a lake with only a teaspoon of water.

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Geralt abandoned his search and slowly turned to face her. Anger and betrayal dripped from his words.

To Triss’ merit she didn’t turn her brown eyes away from his burning gaze. Her chestnut curls framed her freckled face below dark brows now knitting together. She picked at her fingers with obvious nervousness.

“It was her choice.” Triss stepped forward towards the table, towards Geralt. She parrotted the same excuse Vesimer had told him, as if it made it any better. “I tried to talk her out of it, I give you my word Geralt I tried but I…” Her eyes left his, her breath caught in her throat, and he heard her heart begin to beat faster. But then she shook her head and met his eyes again. “I wasn’t able to. I’m sorry I should have tried harder. I just….didn’t realise that either of them were prepared to try it so soon.”

Geralt had turned his eyes away when she tried to meet his. He couldn’t face her again just yet with the anger still boiling under his skin even with her explaination; coupled with Ciris’s own words earlier, it was begining to look to him that this whole affair was more about the poor girl trying to regain some agency, some control of her destiny. Geralt let out another breath understanding that want, that need for control. The image of her strapped to the bed then pierced his mind, his heart, and he heard her screams as the mutagen ran its viscous course through her body. If he had been a few seconds later that dreaded thought would have come to pass.

“Just because it was her choice doesn’t make it right. She is still a child, Triss. If she had died-”

“Then Cintras last and only heir would be lost. And with her, so too would any hope of restoring balance to the kingdoms.” He looked up to her then as she took another step forwards. Her eyes had turned skywards in thought. “The war would drag on even longer than we expect as the kingdoms battle to lay their claim to the throne. All of this alongside various other faucets of political fallout of which I’ll spare you the details of.”

Geralt grunted. “Glad to see you’ve thought it through at least.”

She smiled weakly at him with a shrug. “It’s what I was trained for. But I do mean it Geralt; what I said.” She was now at the table and pleading to him from the other side. “I am sorry. I know you care for her deeply and if I had had any idea I..I would have rushed down here myself to stop it.”

Silence hung between them like a heavy curtain. Despite knot of anger and betrayal twisting still violently in his chest he knew that what she said was true. He could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes.

“But you still made it. You still made the mutagen.” That fact kept the fire burning in his chest. His voice was still lethal sharp. He turned back to the shelf.

“I did so because Vesemir-”

“Vesemir is a fool.” He rounded on her, grabbing the tables edge to stop himself lunging at her throat. The anger howled in him now. “And so are you for feeding his delusions. For encouraging the both of them.” He wanted nothing more than to hurt her, to make her feel even a fraction of the memories screaming from the depths of his mind, his bones, at the very mention of that vile concoction. “It should have stayed lost, destroyed. But you mages cant stop yourselves from interfering can you? And if the Mutagen did work, Triss, did you stop to think what would happen? Children, Triss, children, Ciri’s age or even younger sold or worse abandoned here by their families to be tied down and have that vile poison put into them to change them. But do you know how many actually survive it? How many actually survive having what you made put into their veins?”

Triss didn’t break under his rage, but he could hear her heart beating madly in her chest and smell of sweat. But she held his gaze with a look forged amongst the dangers of royal politics. She also knew the answer to his question. Even if he hadn’t told her in moments of intimacy and vulnerability she had had entire libraries worth on Witchers and the history shared with Mages.

“And yet you still made it.” Geralt spat. A mix of sickening pride and righteous rage lifted Geralt away from the table. He pulled his injured arm back into his stomach. “So. Did you have anything else to say?”

Triss admitted defeat. “No. But there is another matter I needed to talk to you about.” She waited for for him to give the smallest of nods before continuing. “I don’t know for certain but… Geralt, your arm!”

Geralt didn’t follow her gaze, where it had now rested with horrified concern on his wounded right arm pressed into his stomach. Having rolled the sleeves rolled up to his elbow the burn from his earlier fight with the Construct was exposed; charred skin ran traced the edge of large white burn that engulfed most of his forearm, covered in the bitty brown ointment, and almost looping around it entirely.

“Just a burn. Get back to your point.” He pulled it closer to his stomach even as Triss came around the table to him.

“Geralt. That’s not a burn.” She was right in front of him with her hands held out expectantly. “Let me see.”

“I already applied ointment to it, Triss. It is just. A. Burn. Triss!” He growled, then barked. But she had already grabbed his hand and pulled the wounded arm out to her.

Much as it annoyed him, he allowed her to examine the burn. He hissed when a twinge of pain came from her wiping away the ointment from it, and then harder again with her thumb pulling at the skin around it. Her head was down close enough to his arm he could feel her breath on the hairs surrounding the burn.

“See, its a burn.”

“No it isn’t.” She pulled painfully at the edges of the burn, and then pinching at it’s centre. “I know you’re the expert on getting hurt, or worse. But you need to take another look.”

Surprised confusion overrode the next waves of pain from her continued investigations to his wounds. It felt like she was trying to pick away at it with her nails.

“Look; there’s no puss.” She lifted her head for him to see as she explained and pointed with a nail at his flesh. “No blood either. The skin isn’t even inflamed. Look here, your skin is not charred its….there’s a pattern, here, and all around it.”

Geralt pulled his arm up to his eyes with Triss still holding on.

“Look here, see.” Triss draw her finger to the black edge.

The pain and fear from seeing Ciri before, tied up and helpless, had blinded him to the details of his wound. But now with Triss pointing them out, he could see plainly the strange details of the wound; Firstly, that it was so stunningly white, a brilliant marble white that lacked the typical yellow tinge of puss beneath the skin of a burn. Secondly, what he had mistaken as a ring of charred skin was in fact a tiny criss-cross pattern of the deepest black, a border stitching the wound to his skin. He grasped the rising panic in his stomach and stamped it down. Geralt pulled his arm out of Triss’ grip and held up one of the white squares from the table up to the wound. He felt the fear in his stomach breaking free. It was the same shade of marble white. He then checked with one of the black squares and it matched that of the edge around his wound.

“Shit.”

“Geralt.” Triss had picked up the pictures of the Construct. “Is this the creature that did this?”

“Construct.” He corrected her. The anger from earlier put away for now to focus on the issue at hand. “Your friend and I encountered one while investigating the collapsed Monolith outside of Cintra. Do you know what it is?”

“Istredd.” She snapped her head round to face him. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine, but wounded like I am across his chest.” Geralt pointed to his chest with his left hand to demonstrate. “It was too dark to make out much but its attack felt and looked like a… like fire from a dragon.” He pointed at the smaller of the two Constructs pictured. “Do you know what that it is? It transformed into the larger Construct before it attacked.”

“Wounded!?” Several emotions; worry, relief, anger, rolled like waves for a second over Triss’ face. “I wouldn’t call that fine by any means.”

“He’s alive and he was able to portal me back.” Geralt wasn’t sure what social rule he had just broken, but right now didn’t care. He was almost angry at her, again, when she shook her head after looking at the images again.

“No, I-I’ve never come across anything like this. Nor anything that could cause such a wound.”

Triss put down the parchment and then picked up one of the little squares. She turned it to the side revealing it to be thinner than a finger nail, and yet somehow durable enough to have survived in Geralts bag the whole trip back in one piece. He watched her tentatively apply pressure to it’s corners, but the little tile didn’t so much as bend.

“These.” He placed his left hand upon the table next to the other squares. “Are from the Construct. It seemed to explode when it changed and left dozens of these on the ground around it. After I defeated it, it then burst again and returned to it’s previous form. But, I had to strike it once more before it was truly dead.”

“So Where is it now?” She turned to face him after placing the square back where she had picked it up off the table.

Geralt put on his best neutral face knowing exactly how his answer would be received. “With the mage.”

“With Istredd?” Her voice stayed level but her eyes grew wide. “You left him with the thing that injured him?”

“More like I left it with him. I had to get back, Triss. As soon as I heard Ciri I had to get back, and the Construct was the price.” The anger returned. He drew himself back up to look at her down his nose with a scowl. “And just as well I did.”

Triss’ heart had started beating faster, it had lurched when he mentioned Ciri. He watched her eyes dart down to her left, she was thinking, and then she took a step back.

“You heard her?” Triss’ voice wobbled.

“Yes.”

He watched her eyes flicker to meet his, to the ground, back to his again. “When?”

She knew something. Suspicion rose in his gut. “A few hours ago. The mage portal-ed me to The Killer and then I ran here.” He heard he breathing turn the slightest bit rougher as she fought harder to keep it steady, but her heart betrayed her. “Why?”

One more flick to the ground and up to his eyes again. “No reason….just…that I need to go check something. To check on Istredd.” She turned on her heel.

“Triss!” He snatched at her elbow, grabbing it and pulling her back. “Why?”

Triss looked back him and laid a hand on his wrapped tightly, almost painfully, around her elbow. “I don’t know, yet. I - I don’t know yet. Geralt please, I must check on Istredd and make sure he’s alright.”

“If Ciri is in danger.”

“She isn’t. She’s not in danger.” Triss snapped. And a tense silence followed.

Geralt let her elbow out of his grip. The pair continued to look at each other across the silence. Triss quickly smoothing out her pristine dress and adjusting her sleeve.

“But you’re right. She has Chaos, a lot of Chaos, or at least something akin to it but I need to do more research first and…” Her jaw tightened. She let out a breath. “I know after…after all this.” She waved a hand and shook her head. “I understand if you never want me near Ciri again. But, I think I need to say it at least that I don’t think I should be the one to teach Ciri magic”

Geralt blinked. Genuinely surprised by her answer. Out of every mage he knew there weren’t many he actually trusted, and even fewer he would even consider asking to train Ciri. Even with everything that had just happened, Triss had been at the very top of that very short list, which left him with yet another thing he had to think about. Beyond that though he could hear the sound of feet thundering down the stairs.

“Oh.” He replied simply.

“I’m sorry Geralt. You were completely right, what you said earlier. And again, I really am for everything that has happened but I…” Again he saw a flicker of fear across her face, and again her heart lurched in her chest. “I need to go make sure Istredd is okay, and I can look into the Construct as well for you while I’m there.”

Geralt opened his mouth.

“Oi Geralt.” A voice came from the stairs, and then Lambert’s face and ginger beared popped into view in the doorway. “Ciri’s waitin for you in the main hall. Is everything alright? She looked right upset. Said you two were heading off somewhere….”

Geralt looked between Triss and the other Witcher.

“Sorry, were you two in the middle of something?” Lambert pointed back the way he had come. “I can give the pair of you some room if you want? Come back later?”

“No.” Geralt began packing away the parchment, and gathered the squares into a small leather envelope. He hurriedly rolled down his sleeves as well, covering the wound with the tattered fabric. “I was just packing up.”

“Where are you two going?” Triss asked.

“Somewhere else.” He snapped. “With any luck, it’s safer for Ciri than here.”

The world continued on around her. Red watched them all from her perch on the stone brick wall, with dreary eyes squinting at the faces of the towns people. She had escaped the men chasing her a while ago and had then spent the last few hours frantically hunting for any sign of Jaskier or Yennefer, which was then followed by another hour trudging through the streets without any luck. She leaned backwards to let a gaggle of people slip by her, each of them carrying large stacks of wicker baskets with chickens clucking excitedly within. They barely paid her any mind which suited her just fine and was exactly what she needed right now. It was a blessing that would probably expire very soon after everything that had happened. If her luck continued as it had she would undoubtedly end up bumping into a group of guards carrying her wanted papers.

“So…” Blue’s deep voice came from behind her. “What next, Red? We’ve checked all over the place and no sign of either of them.”

Absently she reached behind her to stroke the side of the Transistor through the leather sheathe. Blue probably couldn’t feel it or even see what she was doing but it at least reassured her a bit knowing he was still there keeping an eye on her.

What next?

The question spun in her mind and bounced off ideas; She could retrace her steps a third time and try to find any clues to where the other two had gone. But the sun was now beginning to descend in the early evening sky, and with so many people moving around any trace of them would have gone by now. Plus, she had no real idea how to actually track anyone beyond the ‘follow the footsteps’ method. There was also the risk of running into that group of men again, and given how she had taken out at least one of them she doubted they would be kind enough to let her ask a few questions. She could go back to the Inn and see if either of them were there, but the ‘Fire Fucker’ might still be there or prowling around nearby. Red rubbed her eyes in dismay and winced at how dry they had gotten in this world without air filters scrubbing debris and toxins from the air. The docks were another ‘no-go’ and asking the Guardsmen was a stupid idea. Maybe she could try finding that whore again?

More trouble than he’s worth, honestly. A snide part of her thought. Wonder if he would save me? He knows I’m lying to him so why would he?

Red rubbed her face and willed the horrid and useless thoughts away, now was not the time for giving into defeatism. She was just tired, and angry. And hungry, her stomach reminded her with a loud growl that it had been far too long since she had last eaten anything. Opening her bag to find something to eat, she found a small cloth parcel tied neatly with a string, stashed between her water skin, painfully light coin purse, and few other minor things like a toothbrush.

The parcel contained a meagre meal, if it could be called that, of a slice of cheese, some dried fruit that looked raisins or berries of some sort, and some nuts. Not knowing when she would be able to buy some more Red chose to eat as delicately as she could by breaking off only half of the cheese to eat, and similarly only half of the raisins and nuts. The Rest she folded the cloth back over to hide from sight and avoid temptation. Annoyingly, the cheese had melted a little in her bag and had tried to absorb some of the fruit and nuts like a wild beast; unlike the hard blocks of cheese in neat little plastic packaging Red was used to, the cheeses here were often a lot softer and had a hard rind which she still couldn’t decide if she was supposed to eat. The raisins however were deliciously sweet, a nice contrast to the dry flavour of the nuts, a collection of cashews and peanuts that liked to frustratingly get stuck in her teeth.

As Red chewed her food lazily in a deliberate attempt to make herself feel more full a horrid thought came to her. She quickly opened her bag again and hunted through it, pushing everything side to side and sifting around in rising desperation. She checked again, and then once more under and around her other possessions for the one thing she knew she has lost; her wax tablet. Pulling her head up again she quickly looked around where she was sitting, trying to see if it were somewhere nearby. Then she remembered giving it to the elf she had freed earlier and then forgetting in the moment to ask for it back.

Red slumped and sadly ate her cheese. It was a stupid mistake to make and without her tablet trying to get anything now would be so much harder than before. But at least now she had something in her stomach which was still doing wonders for her mood despite the news. Packing away her remaining food she continued to ponder her situation with newfound energy.

What to do next?

An idea arrived and punched a deep feeling of dread into her stomach. She didn’t like the idea, and without Jaskier by her side it would be ten times harder.

What to do next?

But the question had latched onto the last idea and stubbornly refused to budge. Other than trying to traipse around the place, it was her only choice. Unfortunately.

The idea was another risky move, probably just as risky as her and Yennefer going back to the Inn earlier, and this time it would be just her on her own without for backup. But it was important that she found Jaskier as soon as possible, and maybe Yennefer as well if she could. Making up her mind, Red stood up with a stretch and reached around to pat the smooth eye of the Transistor. The familiar weight of the Transistor on her back reminded her that she still had at least one person she could still count on.

“Got a plan, Red? Okay well, I trust you. Make sure you stay safe though. Got it?”

Red knew Blue wasn’t going to like her idea, and she would have to wait until the cover of nightfall before she could enact it, plus something to write on. She needed the cover in case anyone was following her after all the trouble she had caused in such short time. It was almost funny how she was good at doing that….

The evening had turned to night. The streets here were dark where the moonlight couldn’t reach down past the rooftops for light, and the ground beneath her boots had long since turned to mud if it had ever been cobble stones at all. Red was left rely on her NIRV to navigate; the little programmes borrowing her synapses to compute where to trace the walls and floor hidden by shadows with bright blue grid work overlaying her vision. How Jaskier could lead her confidently down these streets she would never know.

“Red, are you sure about this? They won’t be happy about you turning up without Jaskier. Especially after what happened the other night.” That little warble and rise of worry in Blue’s voice been been there since she had told him of her plan. “Do you think they’ll even let you in?”

Red shrugged her shoulders in reply, not that Blue would even be able to see it, what other choice did she have right now? Besides, she was certain that after what had happened the other night they would be just as unhappy if Jaskier were here. She continued her way down the street.

“Spare any crowns?.” A lump, someone wrapped up in layers of blankets croaked from the floor.

Hearing the voice had Red stopped in her tracks and she delved into her bag for a piece of parchment, neatly folded into quarters. She placed it in the waiting hand with a few quarter cuts.

The hand withdrew, slipping the quarter cuts somewhere out of view, and furtive eyes beneath the shadows of furrowed brows unfolded the parchment. Red waited patiently for the figure, holding up the note and twisting it around in an effort to read in the darkness.

‘No crowns. But I bring change.’ The parchment read.

“Change is always welcome.” The figure finally spoke as they tucked the parchment away into the many folds of their blankets. The hand appeared again pointing straight ahead, Reds left, down another alley.

Red nodded her thanks and took the turning. It was different than she remembered, making her stomach twist itself into anxious knots wondering if she had made a mistake trying to find her way on her own. But after turning another corner her worries dissipated; she knew this this street. The smell of rotting filth and decay almost disappeared completely and a heavy silence came crashing down around her, taking away the tiny noises of a world at rest away from her. She knew this street, knew it by the silence, by how the mud looked much less travelled, knew it by how for the last few turns she had made there were less and less people in the streets, and the number of windows lit came to a sudden stop. Like all things, the signs became obvious once you know what you were looking for. She had stopped at another corner and stared down an empty street.

“He’s gone, Red. Let’s just hope he was the right guy.”

There, halfway down the street in front of her was The House leaning like a drunk against its neighbours waiting for her. The House was abandoned. It stood cramped between two others in similar state; door closed and narrow windows filled in. It was the sort of building you’d glance over and forget in a heartbeat, with a stone base and visibly rotting timbers it did nothing to attract anyone’s attention except to arise disgust and pity. It sat, squatted, in it’s own dark corner of the world and cared little for anything going on around it.

Red continued on until she reached the door to The House. She knocked, a pattern of taps and raps, upon the door. A slot opened at eye level, filled by the shadow of someones head with dull light leaking out on either side.

Silence. Whoever was lookout out at her didn’t feel any need to speak which suited Red just fine. She simply handed another folded piece of parchment towards the shadow in the slot. A moments pause before the shadow shifted to one side for a hand reach out it. She could hear the parchment being unfolded out of sight.

‘Birds of a feather, flock together’ This one read.

The moments passed with anxious silences. Red could feel the eyes of the shadow looking over her, up and down, sizing her up.

“Turn around.”

Red almost jumped at the suddenness of the voice. But she did as it asked and turned on the spot.

“Stop.” The voice ordered when she was facing the opposite direction.

“Oh…Oh I get it now. Guess my reputation really does proceed me. Is this what it’s like to be famous, Red?”

Red tried really hard not to roll her eyes at Blues words.

“Alright. You can come in.” The voice spoke. Then the slot on the door snapped closed, taking away the meagre light with it.

The sound of bolts sliding, chains being moved came from behind the door. Then it opened and cast a column of meagre light, barely brighter than moonlight, broke across the ground. The shadow of a figure loomed in the open doorway, then moved to the side and beckoned her in.

Inside it became clear that The House was a lot larger on the inside. The House was actually much, much larger on the inside. It had extend into it’s neighbours on either side, still with the remains of walls that had been knocked down jutting out at random from the sides between the furniture of old chairs, tables and improvised empty beds. The meagre light of the room came from the dying candles and dimmed lanterns placed interspersed on cabinets, tables, chairs, and piles of cobble brick.

The large, mean looking man, who had let her in turned once she stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind her. Out of sight beyond his bulky back she heard the sound of bolts sliding and a chain being put back into place. When he turned back to face her, it was with his arms crossed a look of grim silence on his face.

Instinctively Reds hands went to the strap of the Transistor running across her chest. A physical brace against the uncertainty that boiled in her stomach as she turned back to the centre of the large room. looking left and right trying to peer into the shadows which her NIRV was already exploring, overlaying and exposing with blue grid work the hidden furniture and boxes. Besides herself and the man behind her, looming like a malicious shadow, there was apparently no one else here.

Red took a few tentative steps into the room wondering where everyone else was? While during her other visits with Jaskier The House had never been busy, there had always been a few people hiding in groups together in the shadows deliberating over maps spread across the tables or exchanging information in hushed tones. But now there was only silence and the chill of a room that had been left empty for too long. Even the fireplaces which had previously burned with the meagre fires they dared to light now sat empty and dead except from one closest to her smouldering pitifully in a bed of ash.

“You have a right set of balls on you coming here.” A voice dripping with restrained anger came from her left, with a wavering light behind an empty set of shelves. “Especially right after that stunt you and Sandpiper pulled on the docks, and through market as well. As if I hadn’t enough to worry about.”

“I’m starting to think that we’re not in everyone's best books right now, Red.” Blue chirped with an audible grimace. Again, she wished she could slap him on the arm to ‘shush’. “I mean, technically it wasn’t Our fault anyway.”

The owner of the voice emerged from behind rickety shelves with a wooden box in her arms, and a candle holder held tightly by her finger. The woman was about Reds height, but almost twice as wide with thick forearms emerging from the slits in her dark green cloak tied closed around her. She wore a thick woollen hat that covered the top half of her ears. Her dark skin shone even in the dim light, and her green eyes glared with a bright burning fury. Despite this she wore a face of complete and utter neutrality. The absolute worst way for The Falcon to greet you. She moved to the table in front of Red without breaking eye contact.

Red had known, going in, that The Falcon would already know a lot of what had happened in the last few days; she was one of, if not THE, main ring leader in this whole operation, as far as either Red or Jaskier could fathom. In Oxenfurt, she was the one who knew the right people to have close, and the right people to have far away. If anyone had a clue about Jaskiers current whereabouts it would be her.

“Well? Go on then; explain yourself.” The Falcon’s voice was calm, but the box hit the table with a ‘bang’ that rattled its contents. The candle hold landed on the table with equal force.

She began to unpack the box pulling out the lantern and parchments, books, small pouches that jangled. She looked away to examine each with care with most of the material goods like pouches and tools going to her right, towards Red, and the papers going to her left out of sight behind the box.

Red took a breath to steady her nerves, determined not to lose her composure in front of The Falcon as it would just make the whole situation ten times worse for both of them. First things first; She let go of the strap and mimed writing with a pen and paper while wearing an apologetic expression. She didn’t have time for a round of charades and she frankly didn’t fancy doing it either. A pencil and paper was a much more accurate way to get information across.

The Falcons scowled at Reds miming. “You didn’t.” And then somehow scowled harder when Red sighed and nodded. “Oh of bloody, bleeding, course you did.” She dug into the box with several curses and mutterings before pulling out a pencil and several sheets of parchment.

“I haven’t got time for this.” She growled, slamming the parchment down and the pencil skittering across and off the table. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused? The plans spent months in the making, the timetables now completely ruined because of you two?”

Red fumbled to pick the pencil off of the floor, she had to feel across the cold, compacted dirt and straw to find it in the darkness. She managed to find the pencil before the NIRV had finished exploring the shadows. Coming back up, she snatched a piece of parchment closest to her, already partially filled with scrawled writings, and began writing her side of the story. She let The Falcon continue for the moment knowing giving someone sometime to say their piece would then often make it easier for her to say hers after.

The Falcon pulled a book out of the box and began flipping through the pages, scowling at it as if it were the source of her anger. “I know I don’t give you the full picture. But that’s for your safety and everyone else. And I shouldn’t have to tell you that there are others out there doing just the same as you, you know that. But if you even dare think you’re the most important ones I have, you are sorely mistaken.” The book snapped shut, betraying the fury behind her calm measured tones as she stared straight ahead. The Falcon didn’t dare raise her voice. “I haven’t got time to deal with over-inflated egos. Do you know how many runners I had to send out yesterday? How many people we have waiting? No, you don’t. You don’t need to. What you need need to know though is that now I have to find not only new hiding places to keep them safe but also someway to get them all to Cintra. Preferably before this all blows up in our faces. All thanks to you two.”

Red let The Falcon speak her piece, despite the fact that Jaskier should really be the one getting HIS ass chewed off instead. But the Falcon was completely right as well, the pair had taken an unnecessary risk with their distraction plan and it would have failed them sooner or later. But her note was important, and clearly held a key bit of information The Falcon was missing. Red tapped the table to get her attention.

The Falcon rounded her gaze upon her, eyes piercing like her namesake, and then to the note on the table. She narrowed her eyes and her gaze slipped to Reds, and then back at the note. She picked up the note.

“Red. The man has a knife.”

Red fought against taking a gasp, fought to keep the shock or horror showing on her face. The Audio Processing Program coming online in an instant and brought the soft sounds of moving fabric, of deft feet moving near silent across the ground towards her. She watched The Falcons eyes rove across the note from side to side.

“So…Sandpiper was kidnapped.” The Falcon read out the words without surprise, the anger was still there beneath the surface of her tone but it had diminished. She handed the note back. “Do you know by who?”

Fear held Red back a moment before she took the note. The metaphorical knife to her throat felt very different to the realy one inching towards her back. She wrote another two words, then scribbled one out and wrote a new word, and handed it back.

“He’s getting closer Red.” Fear drenched his words. Red had to fight the panic, the urge to reach for the Transistor.

“Fire mage?” The Falcon squinted and pulled the paper closer. The falcon tapped on the table in thought, the man behind Red took a tiny breath inwards, a signal. “Fire…fucker….mage? Do you know him then?”

Red shook her head in response; she had never met the man before, in fact she hadn’t even thought fire magic was even a thing in this world, not that she had ever voiced the thought to anyone. The falcons suggestion had sent a knife of cold fear stabbing into her heart. The Falcon was thinking Red had betrayed The Sandpiper, that she had betrayed Jaskier. A cold Sweat broke out across her body and her mouth suddenly turned very dry. Her mind buzzed in panic trying to think of what to do, what she could say to make The Falcon believe her or at the very least prove Red wasn't responsible. Then the sentence clicked in her head.

Red had to take a step back when the thought clicked into place, almost sending her reeling. She almost lost her cool and turned around to face the man behind her, but stopped herself midway. Snapping her fingers, she pointed at The Falcon, accusing her of the sudden thought now blaring warning signals in her mind. Red snatched up another piece of parchment from the table and wrote two words upon it. She spun the parchment for The Falcon to read.

You knew?

“I knew what my informants told me.” The Falcon raised her chin slightly, a mark of being impressed. “The The Sandpiper and The Phoenix caused a scene at the Harbour, riling up the local Dock Hands so much they gave chase after you. The damn idiots even going out to other areas of town trying find you. You left quite the impression, Phoenix.”

Red sucked her teeth and nodded, remembering the turns she had taken and narrowly avoided running into waiting fists. Thankfully The Transistor gave her a certain advantage in quick thinking.

“Annoyingly, none of them actually saw who took Sandpiper.” She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “But one did see him being dragged into The Bridled Mare.” The Falcon turned to lean back against the table as she spoke, and drew her arms into her cloak. “We had set up a mission to rescue him. But before we could there were then sightings of ‘an injured man being dragged out by a woman with a red eye on her back and…’ and someone else. Yeah, lets say ‘someone else’ for now, oh yes we’ll get to that little chestnut in a bit. But before that you should know afterwards The Bridled Mare was set fire to, and burned to the ground.”

Shock punched Red in the gut. She couldn’t hold back the gasp and held a hand to her mouth, with an involuntary step backwards. She barely heard Blues own words of disbelief come from her back. For now the armed man behind her was forgotten in the horror of the news.

“You didn’t know, did you?” The Falcon commented as if she were talking about the weather. “I admit it was the one bit of the puzzle I didn’t understand but…if it wasn’t you or the Sandpiper, or even your new ‘friend’. Then that just leaves ‘Fire Fucker’ the one responsible.”

“He’s right behind you, Red.” Blue was shouting from behind her. Red ignored him. Red ignored the adrenaline pumping into her veins. “Red you need to fight, she’s trying to kill you!”

Red scrawled upon the paper quickly again, trying to find room on the crowded page. She scrawled into the corner the names of Merrily, the Inn Keeper, and the others who worked at the Inn.

“They’re all fine.” The Falcon only glanced at the paper. At the names. “Enough.” The Falcon raised a hand. “She knew you were there the whole time. Next time be quieter.”

Red couldn’t hold back the urge now and spun round to face the man, and jumped to find him barely a footstep away from her. The knife in his hand reflecting dull yellow candle light. She then turned her gaze to The Falcon without even attempting to hide her shock.

“I saw the tension in your shoulders, Phoenix.” The Falcon explained with a shrug. “You have a good poker face but as for the rest of you….you need work.”

Blue swore repeatedly.

“Anyway.” The Falcon continued as if nothing of note had happened and not even giving Red the chance to be angry. “Phoenix. Let's talk about why you’re really here then; I know where The Sandpiper is.” She returned to the box and tapped it’s rim in thought. “He’s being held in a guardhouse, no. I won’t tell you where. Not yet. You are both responsible for this mess we’re in now, so you are going to do a very important job for me. And in return I’ll tell you were he is. Don’t worry he’s unharmed.”

Red let out an involuntary sigh as the hand of worry unwrapped itself from her heart. It was almost enough for her to not be angry at the Falcon. So she wrote her last question down and passed it to The Falcon.

Then lets go get him!

“No. And before you say anything, let me explain.” The Falcon raised her eyes from the note and crumpled it in her hand. Reds questions were over. “ He is being held for arson, assault, general misconduct, voyeurism of all things, and to top it all off.” Her hands slammed onto the table, leaning towards Red. “Associating with an ‘Enemy of the Empire’, Yennefer of Vengaburg. Yes, I know who your new friend is.” She pulled herself back up. “Be glad that he’s still got his head and mostly unharmed, for now anyway. No doubt once they move him to the prion house that’ll change real quick. The rest of though, we’ll be long gone from here.”

Red protested in outrage. How could she even think of leaving Jaskier!

“I haven’t got time to go running after every operative who gets locked up, Phoenix!” The Falcon snapped but her eyes only met Reds for an instant. There was shame in her eyes. Her voice softened. “Don’t get me wrong, he has done a lot for the cause, both of you have. But with how much trouble he gets into it was only a matter of time before it was more than he’s worth. We can’t spare the men or the time to go get him now. A little misconduct, and the occasional assault or thievery can be covered up. Gods above know how many guards are willing enough to take a few crowns to keep quite. But Yennefer of Vengaberg? The. Yennefer. Of. Vengaberg” The Falcon, in a rare display of exasperation stared openly at her with a look of utter disbelief, as she drove a finger into the table with each repeated word. “That, I’m sorry to say, cannot be kept quiet. And I don’t even want to know what the pair of you were thinking hanging around her.”

A silence came crashing down between them. Red first glared at The Falcon but then averted her gaze first, unable to match the other woman's intense stare. She instead glared at the floor as she heard The Falcon return to her work sorting the items in the box.

“She can’t be serious. Red, she can’t be serious. Tell her, Tell her, Red! Tell we have to go save him.”

“I get it, Phoenix. I really do. Its not decision I wanted to make but….the cause is more important than anyone of us.” The Falcon threw a book upon the nearby fire. It licked hungrily at the parchment and binding. “Which is why I’m giving you this chance to save him yourself. But you have to help the rest of us first, and know that if you do try to save him then you’ll be doing it on your own. So, when you’re done sulking or no doubt trying to think of your own plan to find and save him, you can let me explain mine.”

Chapter Text

The door of Nennekes office was closed, trapping the smoke of incense which swirled lazily across the ceiling, and painting delicate wispy trails in the sunlight streaming in from the pain-glass window behind Nenneke. She was as radiant and beautiful as Geralt remembered her, a red dress and off her right shoulder red robes pinned by a yellow flower draped modestly like the sunlight over her thin frame. She kept her black hair incredibly short atop her thin face, and her brown eyes shone with secrets you could never guess, and around which time had marked lovingly with tender creases, and a soft knowing smile never seemed to leave her face.

Neneke was one of the few people Geralt knew who could get an incense burner to behave properly to release a calming smell that didn't choke the senses or befoul the air with smoke. Every time he had been in her office it had always just the right temperature to be comfortably warm, as it was now, but never warm enough to make you drowsy regardless of the season. Her office was just as well put together as she was; organised and tidy with the few shelves and bookcases hugging the walls displaying the worn spines of well read books, scrolls, and all kinds of brick-a-brack hidden amongst it all. Her desk was similarly organised and neat with all things on her desk only there as and when she needed them so if she needed to move everything out the way, as she had done so a few minutes ago, there was more than enough room for it all to the side, and always space directly between herself and the chair opposite that Geralt was now sitting in. From where Geralt sat he could see only one embarrassing exception to this organisation in the form of a large, scorched crack in the sandstone bricks to his right on almost proud display between two bookshelves.

Nenneke was almost leaning over Geralts arm which she held by his wrist between them. She turned his arm over to expose the top of his arm and the marble white wound engulfing it like mould upon meat. She squinted down at it with her brown eyes trying to pierce its secrets.

Again she turned the arm over exposing its underside and the gap between the two edges of the wound which kept it from engulfing his forearm entirely. The fingers of her other hand traced very gently the black border of the wound and followed it as she turned the limb over again to expose the larger side of the wound dominating the outside of his forearm.

"As you said; there is a texture to this wound." She turned her finger tip onto the nail, catching at the subtle, regular, even ridges of the white portion of his wound. "Regular and repeating. Much like the pattern of a weave. Very strange, very strange indeed."

"Have you seen anything like it?" Geralt asked, and then added when Nenneke shook her head. "Or even heard of it?"

"Not even a whisper. Has there been change at all since you first got it?"

"No."

She smacked her lips. "Then let us consider that a blessing. Until, at least, we know more of it, and of the creature-"

"Construct"

"...and of the Construct." Nenneke picked up a magnifying glass and her brown eye became huge through its lens as she began to examine his flesh closer. "In the meantime I shall look into our records myself."

"Nenneke, you really needn't to trouble yourself."

"I shall look into our records myself." She reiterated over the magnifying glass with a firm smile. "For anything that might be of use. But now my best guess would be that your flesh has been changed. Transmuted."

Geralt felt his heart stop. Eskels flesh twisted into knotted bark came screaming into his mind. "Into what?"

Nenneke sucked on her teeth and put the magnifying glass down. Her lips were drawn back into a rare thin line of worry. "I cannot say. I do not know. At first, I would have thought maybe metal or stone but it is not either of those things. Your wound moves just like flesh. You still have feeling in it as well, and you can move your hand without any noticeable issue." She returned her gaze to the wound and turned his arm over again with a deepening frown. "I can see it worries you Geralt, and I would say it is not infection as it does not have any of the signs of one. I trust you when you say that there has been no noticeable change during your travels."

"No, nothing so far. I thought it was a burn at first. Applying ointment helped with the pain." Geralt reiterated the earlier parts of their conversation.

"And there is no pain now?"

"No, no pain as such but...it does ache, almost." He quickly added seeing the worry on Nennekes face. "It feels like an old wound."

"And I understand Ciri does not know of this?" Nenneke asked. Geralt shook his head and she nodded back understanding the unspoken request. "Then even more reason for me to investigate our records myself. This will stay between us, Geralt." Her knowing smile returned. 'This will pass' it reassured him.

Geralt thanked her and began to withdraw his arm when he felt her gentle grip begin to release. The hand of worry which had been trying to wring his heart began to loosen ever so slightly knowing Nenneke would be searching the archives of the temple. But it didn't let go entirely. Thoughts and questions around how he would take care of Ciri if the wound began to fester quickly re-tightened its grip.

"Wait." Nenneke's grip returned suddenly. There was a worried edge to her voice.

Geralt let her pull his wrist back. She was turning his arm over and over agian now with her other hand sitting underneath and then passing it over the top. Geralt anxiously followed her gaze to be not on his arm but on her desk instead. Her frown deepened and a sense of dread settled in Geralts stomach.

"What's wrong?" He fought to keep his own voice steady.

"Geralt. Your arm, hold it up here" Nenneke brought his arm up with her as she stood. She then moved around beside him while still holding his arm up so that it was shielding him from the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass window opposite. "Right there, yes. Tell me, have you noticed this as well?"

She turned his forearm so it was parallel to the window and the sunlight was hitting it side on. She let go of his wrist and he held it in position. He looked between the marble white wound and Nenneke's own face mirroring his own worried face. Looking back at the wound he tried to search in vain for whatever it was that suddenly had Nenneke so worried. The wound looked exactly the same as it had when the Construct had struck him several days ago.

"What am I looking for?"

"It is neither stone nor metal your flesh has become Geralt. That much is certain."Nenneke grimaced. "However I worry what it is becoming, look."

He watched her spread out her hand and then place it between his wounded arm and the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass window. A faint shadow, a slight dimming of the shade of marble white, appeared across his wound. His eyes grew wide watching the shadow copy the movements of Nenneke's hand. She withdrew her hand and the shadow disappeared as well. His wound returned to a uniform marble white

"What?" He breathed. Stunned, horrified, he moved his left hand between the light and the arm, the shadow reappeared.

Panic surged through him. He pulled back the wounded arm and grabbed it hard. He groped the wound, pinching it, twisting it, feeling the pain, feeling his wounded flesh move and feel solid and firm beneath his frantic grasps. His arm was still there. Still very solid. Still very real. But when he held it up again in the light and tried the same test he could still see that faint, subtle shadow appear and move across the marble white wound. It was so subtle that he would've continued to miss the change to his flesh entirely if Nenneke hadn't shown him.

Geralt looked at Nenneke and asked simply. "What the fuck?"

Constable Donovan unfurled the map from under his arm and spread it out across the polished oak table. Directly opposite from where he stood, sat the Lord and Lady of Oxenfurt enjoying their elevenses. A small fire was cracked and popped in the fireplace behind them despite having the heavy crimson drapes, and large bay windows on the left side of the room flung open to allow a breeze into the room. Aside from himself, and the Lord and Lady, there were also three servants around the room; two others standing at the Lord and Ladys elbows in case they were in need of any tea pouring or trays of food moved towards them, and the attendant who had lead Donovan into the room now resuming his post by the door behind him.

Donovan felt envy and disgust rise in equal measure as he watched the Lord and Lady try only a mouthful or two of the food on their plates before moving onto the next. The plates of boiled eggs, roasted vegetables, cooked meats, and baked tarts on the table were loaded high enough to feed half a dozen of his men. Yet, here it was, all and only for the two pigs dressed in the finest clothing in various shades of the gaudiest blues this city could buy, making the Lord look like an over ripe blueberry and the lady like a shrivelled grape. Somehow they still put even his finest armour, which he had taken special care to polish for this meeting, to shame. The meal would end barely half eaten as it always did, as he had seen several times during his years in Oxenfurt, and despite the Lord and Ladyship's orders to throw the remaining meal away it would all end up back in the kitchen for the staff to stuff their faces with as well.

Putting those thoughts aside with a deep breath and squaring his clean shaven jaw, Donovan set out his plan. It went just as well as he expected. He watched the faces on the pair twist and curl with disdain. They curled in so similar a way that old rumours surfaced in his mind.

"An embargo?" The Lord of Oxenfurt, Theodore Artrovisk spoke around a mouthful of turkey. "Are you joking?"

"I assure you, my Lord, I am not" Constable Donovan flattened out an errant crease in the map, and flicked away a stray piece of turkey in the process. "To apprehend these Dissidents we must first corner them. And to do that we must cut off all routes of escape. So to that effort, my men and myself have already stopped all outgoing ships and have begun closing down all roads in and out of the city."

He circled the frozen waves at the bottom of the map, and then pointed at each of the roads in turn. He held a sense of pride that he had managed to move his men so quickly given the state of then when he had first been promoted. Yes, things were a far cry from what they had been under the previous Constable. Donovan prided himself on being a forward thinking man, one who could take the direct course of action before things got out of hand. But as he looked up from his map to the Lord and Lady he knew they didn't approve of his ambitions.

"You what?" Food fell out of Theodores open mouth. "Are you insane?"

"I'm sorry, my Lord" He tried to hold a gentle, apologetic smile in place. "I understand you would have preferred I consulted you first bu-"

"Damn right you should have!" Theodore dropped his fork and slapped the table.

"But time is of the essence, my Lord. I didn't wish for them to escape. With any luck, we'll be able to smoke them out within a few days and apprehend them."

"'A few Days' you must be out of your mind, do you have any idea how much trouble that will cause? How much that will cost? Even if your plan does work and you capture them, then what?" Theodores small mouth shone with grease as he almost sneered. "Lose them as well like you did that Elf bitch?"

Donovan felt his smile fall into a pained grimace and at the same time he suddenly felt very warm inside his armour.

"Again, I apologise for that embarrassment, my Lord. The guards who let her escape have been thoroughly punished for it." He lied. The Elven bitch was a mage who up and vanished in a plume of fire and smoke. What the hell was he supposed to do? Punish his men for not handcuffing the smoke?

"Good." Theodore barked with enough force to make his jowls wobble. "I should think so after letting her get away like that. We could have had the King's ear, asked for anything we wanted and been given it. Not to mention as well the 40,000 Orens promised. If it weren't for those blundering idiots of yours."

Donovan continued to silently smile a grimace and endure the heat of rage building inside him making him sweat underneath the padding of his armour. He rested a hand upon the pommel of his sword hanging from his hip while treating himself to the mental image of gutting the Lord, and the Lady too.

"Sounds like a lot of fuss for nothing, if you ask me." The Lady of Oxenfurt, Elisa Artrovisk spoke with a voice that could make stone crack whilst delicately dissecting a custard tart. "Are we really going to to all this trouble for a bunch of nobodies helping those Animals?"

"Do try to use that head of yours Elisa." Theodore grumbled into his food. "If the King got wind of this; that we not only lost the traitorous Elven hag he's been searching for, but that we also have Swine running around under our noses...well." Theodore paused with the half eaten turkey leg halfway to his mouth. "We'd be a laughing stock. Or worse; accused of treason! We would lose our home, our money!" His face turned almost white and he began to visibly sweat.

Donovan repressed a grin at the thought. "My worries exactly, My Lord. That is why I moved with such haste; I simply didn't want the situation to worsen any more. Even without Yennefer of Vengaburg stamping out the Dissidents will solve some of our worries. And it will also send a message not just to others but also to the King. 'We will not tolerate these Animals in our fine City.'"

Theodore grumbled his approval, apparently satisfied with this idea after imagining his own suffering. "Well very good then, I suppose. Have you any leads? Or is this all talk."

"We actually do, I'm pleased to announce." Donovan snapped his heels together with satisfaction. Finally things were going his way. "It seems that the burning of The Bridled Mare isn't an entirely unrelated incident as a number of concerned citizens have come forward to suggest it was a meeting place for these Dissidents. We've already rounded up most of the staff who were working there and questioning them now as we speak."

"They burnt down their own meeting spot. Why whatever for?" Elisa spoke up. "Doesn't seem very smart to me."

"Oh come now my dear, we mustn't worry ourselves trying to understand these Animals." Theodore reached over and reassuringly patted his wife's hand. She simply rolled her eyes and returned to stabbing her tart. "Carry on, Donovan."

"Well, that is something we are wondering ourselves My Lady. Our current thinking is that it may have been started possibly due to a disagreement of some kind between the Dissidents and the bar keep. The investigation is still ongoing so I cant go into too many details, you understand of course." He cleared his throat and paused for a moment. This was the news he had been most eager to press upon the pair. He could almost smell the new boots he'd be able to afford after this. "There is one more bit of good news that I have for you both. The Sandpiper, we believe that we have him."

Lady Elisa's gaze snapped up from her tart to him and the poor woman dropped her fork in astonishment. Yes, that was the reaction he was looking for. He watched her eyes widen in awe.

"We have The Sandpiper." Theodore echoed with more than a hint of sarcastic disbelief. "Don't you go pulling my leg now Donovan. He's been captured, locked up in chains. You read me the reports yourself."

"That is correct my Lord, but that was some time ago and you'll remember that we did receive word of his escape soon after, reportedly aided by the Scoia'tael."

"Ah, those beastly Squirrels. Horrid barbarians. Biting the hand of Redania soon as it feeds them. Yes I know of them." Theodore rested his chin on his hand with a frustrated sigh. "I don't see why the King doesn't just butcher them all now and be done with it all."

"The very ones my lord, I must remind you the King does find use for them on occasion but you can't expect loyalty from such things. They are simple animals after all loyalty isn't in their nature." Donovan waited for the Lord to nodded reluctantly before continuing. "But back to the matter at hand. We have a man in our custody who matches the description Redania has given us." Donovans eyes flicked up to the ceiling as he pictured the parchments sitting in a draw in his office. "Caucasian male human of roughly 40 years of age. Grey eyes and dark brown hair. Of unremarkable height and build. Additionally, we have several eyewitnesses, including some of our own guards, seeing him and Yennefer running together through the Market yesterday. As luck would have it, we even found him skulking outside the same house that Yennefer was captured in." He thought better of adding that it had also been the house she had escaped in as well.

"It all seems very far-fetched if you ask me." Elisa interjected. She was now gazing out the window apparently uninterested in the news. She Rapped upon her teacup with a spoon, prompting the servant boy at her elbow to come forward.

Donovan kept his face politely neutral as he watched the servant boy pick up the silver teapot on the table and pour the steaming hot beverage. But the boy's eyes were not on his task but instead seemed to be resolutely focused on Donovan himself without making eye contact. Donovan's eyes narrowed at the boy who looked on the cusp of manhood with unusually long hair pulled into a small tuft at the back, covering his ears. The cup began to rapidly fill while Lady Elise gazed out the window and continued her thought.

"Are you certain you haven't locked up some random peasant? Oh you stupid oaf watch what you're doing!"

Lady Elisa leapt from her chair and away from the steaming hot beverage pouring from the overflowing cup. The other servant from Theodores elbow quickly shooed the boy off to the side where he squeaked and stammered his apologies, while she hurriedly began tidying the mess he had caused.

Donovan tried hard not to scowl at them all while he waited. Once the servant finished cleaning up the spilled drink, and for Elise to settle back down with a new custard tart in front of her before he continued. He kept an eye on the servant boy responsible for the mess standing dumbly still with the teapot in his hands and staring intently at the floor.

"A possibility, my lady." Donovan looked to her only to find her still looking out the window while absently stabbing the tart. "But unlikely given aforementioned reports from Concerned citizens. A man matching his and the Sandpipers frequented the Bridled Mare, and on several occasions seen late at night leaving from the cellar door with several others in tow. Given all the other evidence we've found they were likely Animals he and the other Dissidents were helping to escape. Possibly including Yennefer herself"

He paused to let the information sink in. He watched the Servant Boy on his right shuffle in place, watched his fingers dance nervously over the teapot. Yes, the boy was definitely nervous.

"We are also on the lookout for his accomplice, the Phoenix. Much like the Sandpiper we have had reports of a woman matching the description as well; A Caucasian human woman of, again, unremarkable height and build. Red hair and blue eyes. Seen carrying a Great Sword with a large jewel fashioned like an eye on the sheathe. Like the man in custody, our 'suspected' Sandpiper, she was also seen frequenting the Bridled Mare, then late at night leaving from the cellar with several others. All of this paints a clear picture the place was being used for illicit trafficking. It is my personal opinion it may also be where our missing prisoners have been going to over the last few months." The boy was shuffling towards Donovan, towards the door that lay behind him. "Additionally, a woman matching the description was also reported at the docks assaulting several workers the night before the Bridled Mare was burnt down. The next day she was then seen with the Sandpiper and Yennefer running through the market as previously discussed. It was then in the afternoon that the Bridled Mare was then on fire."

The boy lost his cool. He jolted forward a few frantic steps before he could force himself into a stilted walk past Donovan and towards the door behind him.

"Stop right there." Donovan ordered, turning around to clamp a hand down on the boy's shoulder.

The boy yelped. In one swift motion Donnovan had spun him around, ignoring the surprised protests from the others. The servant at the door had taken two steps forward before he was quickly halted by Donovans glare reminding him of his place. Donovan returned his glare down at the boy who was now shaking beneath the firm grasp on his shoulder. With his other hand Donovan reached under the boys hair and grabbed his ear. The boy yelped again. Pinched between Donovans fingers was the top of a round and distinctly human ear.

The fire flared for a moment as it bit feverishly into the book. The light threw the shadows on the Falcons face into a frenzy, becoming sharp as they danced across the right side of her face, her brows set hard and lips drawn into a thin line. She had finished sorting through the box before her and was now leaning with her hip against the table. Her gaze focused entirely on Red who was fighting hard not to buckle beneath it.

"So here's what will happen." The Falcon began. "Already those brass pricks up in the keep have realised somethings going on. Any other time I might have said something like 'We can make it look like a den of thieves or some other ne'er-do-wells', but-"

"Oh there's always a but."

"-That's not going to happen. And you know why." The Falcon pointed an accusing finger at Red, who ground her teeth in reply. "Bet you noticed already how many more guards there are prowling the streets?"

Red thought for a moment. She thought back over the day to all the alleys she had had to dive into, all the hurried u-turns she had to make to avoid being seen by the Guards. They made an awful din parading the streets in packs with their shiny metal helmets and the red leather jumper things they wore over their armour. She nodded, earning a satisfied nod in return.

"A little bird told me the Captain of the Guard is going to lock down Oxenfurt, day after tomorrow if he gets his way. The damned general has already stopped any boats docking or leaving, and his men are closing the gates to the city as we speak. Luckily, we can get by without but it's going to be hard work, and no mistake about it. But those brass pricks are going to have more than us lot to worry about soon enough." The Falcon slid her arms back under her cloak. "The common folk aren't going to like it, and the merchants less so. My bet is the Guards are going to have their hands full just keeping everyone under control. And that's going to get harder the longer they keep Oxenfurt locked down."

"Your job is to take advantage of that." She raised her chin towards Red.

Red raised an eyebrow at the woman and tilted her head to the side, a universal signal in this situation for 'How?'

"You." A hand reappeared for a moment to point at Red. "Are going to sneak into the ware-houses of a few merchants whos the ships we've been using, and change their books, when the ships arrived and sailed and such. Or scrub them entirely." The Raven shrugged and pulled herself away from the table. "There's seven of them, I'll give you a map once you've rested, plus the main Trade Hall if there's time but we can get by without. Enough mismatching records will cause enough confusion, and give us a bit longer to get us and the refugees we have around out of here. Got it?"

Red titled her head slightly from side to side as she rolled the idea around in her mind. Overall it made sense even if lacking on some key details and it sounded a bit too risky for her liking. Who knew what she would be walking into trying to break into some random merchant's office or home. Barely a year ago the very idea of breaking into someone's home would have been unthinkable. But there was one key bit of information that was missing from the Falcons plan. She grabbed the piece of paper and pencil on the table and wrote another note.

And the sandpiper?

"Once you've finished the job then I'll tell you." The Falcon held out a hand towards her. "Deal?"

Red looked down at the hand that had reached out to her and considered it. Her gaze came back up to meet the Falcons green eyes, betraying none of the other woman's thoughts. She turned to look back at the man behind her still guarding the doorway with his large arms crossed over a barrel chest. She was trapped.

"You owe us, Pheonix." The Falcon pulled Reds attention back to her. "They're after you too, y'know. Follow my lead and I'll keep you a step ahead. And you'll have your chance to rescue the Sandpiper.''

"She's not going to take no for an answer is she." A heavy sigh from her back.

Red chewed the inside of her cheek. Thoughts, questions, worries and sheer anger formed a roiling storm in her chest. She supposed she could try to run, escape from The House and try to find Jaskier herself. But that would make an enemy of The Falcon and possibly the rest of the Underground as well, and leave Red with even more people who wanted her blood. But with The Falcon she would eventually find out where Jaskier was, likely faster than searching everywhere herself. Plus, it would also help the other Elves and Refugees have a better chance to get out of Oxenfurt alive.

She grabbed the Falcons hand and shook. The Falcons warm hand easily engulfed Reds.

"Glad to have you on board Phoenix. Now go rest up. I'll come get you in a few hours for your first mark."

Geralt walked alongside Yennefer in the quiet halls of the temple, the sound of their footsteps in time with one another accompanied their lazy stroll down the hall. The wall beside then contained the darkness of the night outside in its tall, narrow windows while allowing the cold air to saunter into the temple. Geralt kept his gaze to the floor as he tried to think of what to say next but found he could only focus on the scuffed and worn toes of his boots. As the pair continued, the smell of Yennefer mingled with the incense and burning candles into one that was wonderfully sweet to him. He could hear her heart beating almost thrice as fast as her steps, and his beat in time.

Yennefer looked as radiant as ever even under such dire circumstances as she revealed to be living under; on the run for treason from the Brotherhood and the kingdom of Redania. Her black hair shone like a mirror, skin radiantly flawless, and every fold and stitch of her dark purple dress in exactly the right place and moved only when she allowed it to.

He pulled his focus back to their conversion, if only to distract himself, and away from his own arms. It felt wrong to have his forearms covered, almost uncomfortable like an itch he couldn't scratch, and despite his efforts he had caught himself several times about to roll up his sleeves out of sheer habit. He caught Yennefer watching him just as many times as he did so and tried to cover up the movement by snapping his hand to his elbow or rubbing his hands. Geralt followed Yennefer around another corner as they continued to talk of nothing in particular through the quiet halls with moonlight spilling in through a set of glazed windows.

He enjoyed his time spent with Yennefer just as much as he hated it; She had pecked at old wounds, old arguments, old playfully barbed words as was her nature. But she could take as much as she gave and allowed Geralt the occasional barbed comment of his own with a turn of the cheek or a roll of the eyes. Maybe one day he would get a straight answer out of her. A quiet part of him that enjoyed their games hoped he wouldn't.

The pair rounded one of the many squared columns holding the vaulted ceilings hidden above them by shadows and the soot from the many burning candles surrounding the base of each. There a moment of peaceful, comfortable silence fell between them as their conversation came to its end and patiently awaited the next. It didn't have to wait long.

"I ran into Jaskier." Yennefer said with such suddenness it made Geralt pause in surprise. Yennefer also came to a stop and turned to face him with her arms crossed. "In Oxenfurt. He's done well for himself, even made friends with a powerful mage. But he was in some trouble." The almost playful tone in her voice vanished.

"What kind of trouble?" The words tumbled out. He hunted in vain for any sign in her eyes that she was lying. Geralt didn't need to ask why she hadn't said sooner; she obviously hated Jaskier at it was a miracle the pair weren't physically at each other's throats half the time.

"Another mage, this fire fucker was after him." Yennefer corrected herself with a shake of the head. " Dark hair, very pale complexion, well spoken. Not sure on eye colour. Wore very fine clothing. I don't know who he was. He was looking for information. About you." The reason for bringing up Jaskier in the first place was revealed.

Yennefer always spoke in short, direct sentences when she was worried, when time and details were of the essence. So Geralt took a moment to contemplate the information; he turned it over in his mind and began to pull it apart. Jaskier was the bard, his friend, who had composed the now famous song; 'Toss a coin to your Witcher', which had been echoed across most of the continent for a time not many years ago.

When a humble bard graced a ride along

With Geralt of Rivia, along came this song

From when the White Wolf fought a silver-tongued devil

There were many, many people who had reason to hunt down Geralt but one reason stuck out in his mind like a sore thumb. Even he had heard rumours of himself and Ciri travelling the continent.

"He's looking for Ciri." His heart sank into his stomach.

"Why?" Yennefer stepped closer to him. He heard her heart flutter and his followed suit. "What is she to him?"

Geralt looked at her and saw the gleam of eagerness and excitement in her eyes betraying her trained expression of neutral curiosity. He knew her. She was after something; she was after Ciri as well. With this thought the flutter of his heart returned to its steady beat.

"Yen." He stood slightly taller and spoke softly. When he touched her arm he felt a not unwelcome tingle travel up his own. "You heart has been beating fast this whole time. You're nervous."

"So." She leaned closer to him with her chin turned up and lips moving up towards his own. They were breathing the same air now and it sent chills down his spine.

After all this time, Geralt knew her games. He placed his other hand on her other arm to hold hold her back. To hold himself back. The candlelight illuminating the space around them reflected beautifully in her violet eyes, turning them almost gold. Her gaze didn't meet his but had settled on his lips.

He steadied himself with a breath of not shared air. "Why are you here?"

"I have some wounds that refuse to heal." She pulled her gaze up to meet his.

"You still want to have a child?" He asked kindly. They were right now more similar than she realised.

There was a pause before she answered. Geralt felt the barely perceptible push towards him stop as the magic of the moment over both of them gently broke. She was thinking of her words.

"No, it's ... it's different this time." She pulled himself out Geralts grip and took a step away from him. A gulf opened between them.

"Well, let's hope it's different for the both of us."

Yennefer gave a small smile at the unsaid joke, the unspoken hope which had passed between them and settled softly in the silence. But there was work to be done. He pulled all the errant thoughts in his mind together and packed them away. He then pulled upon the motion of thinking which came only from years of training, it was just like slipping on his armour. He began to pull up mental maps of the area, dredge up names of people he knew near and far, and all the skills he attributed to each. A plan began to form in his mind ready and waiting, with several back up plans on the way.

"I need to find Ciri." He resumed his walk, motioning for Yennefer to follow with a twist of his head. All the soft curves of his voice had returned to deadly edges. "Who is this other Mage you mentioned?"

"Her name is Red. Short, red hair, hence the name. Wears a leather jacket with an upside down, yellow triangle. She doesn't talk." Yennefer drew up alongside him as she explained. Her voice had taken similar intonations, the pair slipping again into lockstep ith a purpose that hadn't been there a few minutes agao. "Decent enough though and the two have them have been working together for a few months now."

"Doing what?" The pair split momentarily past a monk going the opposite way, all without breaking a stride.

"Just...working together." Her pause contained a secret. "She's his bodyguard. Very strong grasp of Chaos. She can move extremely fast and can use spells I don't recognise. She looks to channel her Chaos through a club or great-sword, I'm not sure."

Geralt nodded as he filed away each snippet of information. It wasn't uncommon for mages to use an object of some kind as a focus either as they got older or even the younger mages for more demanding spellwork. The thought that there were spells Yennefer didn't know about filled him with a surprising amount of dread.

Yennefer continued. "Never took it out of its sheath, always worn on her back. Black sheath, with another on the pommel,. The one on the black had a large red jewel towards the crossguard. Looks like an eye."

"An eye?" He looked at her.

"Yes. A large red eye."

Geralt stopped and turned to face her. "A red eye?" He repeated, hoping he had misheard.

"Yes, Geralt, for the third time; a big red eye. Some sort of ruby or other jewel the size of my head."

"That looks like a dark pupil within another circle?"

"Yes, exactly. How did yo-"

"Your Dear Friend; Istredd. We were investigating the Monolith outside Cintra. There we found a Construct with a Red Eye; a crimson pupil within another crimson circle. It was fast, Yenefer, and powerful. Transformed in an instant. It could attack with something like fire but it wasn't fire, it was more as if it were concentrated light. But without using Chaos."

"Attacked with light without using Chaos?" Yennefer scowled at the thought.

Geralt held his medallion up towards her. "Each time it attacked, nothing, no reaction."

Geralt watched her eyes flicker from side to side as she worked over this information. He didn't have time to let her think about it any longer. He started walking again at a pace that Yennefer had to lift up her dress and almost jog after him.

"I need to find Ciri." Geralt then added. "And then Jaskier. He could be in more trouble than you think."

Red tried to ignore the growing pain and stiffness in her right shoulder protesting with every step she took. Coupled with the sharp sting of the wound sliced into her left side, Red decided the last job had not gone nearly as well as she had hoped. Stepping back inside The House she met the familiar sight of The Falcon pouring over a map held down by it's edges with rocks, pebbles and a candle. A young man roughly Reds height stood next to The Falcon also pouring over the map. He and Red shared no more than a polite nod before proceeding to ignore each other entirely. The rule of The Falcon reigned; In The House there is no one else.

"How did it go?" The Falcon raised only her eyes up from the table, and then she stood up fully. "Not well I take it ... How bad?"

Red shook her head and tried to wave off the subject.

"I don't need you dying on me Phoenix. Show me" She pointed to Reds side.

Red hesitated before letting out a small indignant huff. Admittedly, in the meagre light it didn't look good, and it felt worse. Her jacket now had a new tear on the left side, framing a dark stain on her tunic surrounding a similar tear. She lifted both up to reveal a stained bandage, dark and sticky, tied between her hips and her waist. Red raised her eyebrows impatiently hoping for this whole ordeal to be over as soon as possible.

"I said. Show me."

"Come one Red. It wont kill you to get it checked out."

Red tried to repress another impatient huff but relented under the Falcons gaze. She pulled up the bandage away from the wound, wincing as she did so. The wound was a thin line barely longer than her middle finger, the shield of dried blood split and a few new lines of blood trickled out to join the smears surrounding it.

"Doesn't look that deep. Guessing you just dodged a lunge. Woozy at all?" The Falcon stared at the wound with a critical gaze. Red first nodded and then shook her head. The Falcon let out a sigh. "All right. Cover it up again. We'll get you a fresh bandage in a bit. So, how did it go?"

"There, now that wasn't too bad was it?"

After covering herself back up, Red motioned for a pencil and paper and wrote her report for the Falcon. A tense silence reigned for the minute while the Falcons eyes roved across Reds writing.

"Guess the other merchants got guards quicker than I thought. Still, you managed a fair few of them the last few nights so that will have to do." She crumbled the note and threw it into the fire before returning to the map on the table. She waved Red away. "Go rest up. We'll talk more later."

But Red stayed where she was waiting for The Flacons gaze to come back to her. When it didn't come she cleared her throat pointedly.

"Situation is still the same, Phoenix." The Falcon said without looking. "Go rest. Someone will bring you a fresh bandage soon"

Red waited another few seconds just in case, but a side eye from the Falcon then convinced her it was time to move. With her tired limbs and aching feet, Red turned with deliberate slowness on her heel to her left into the deeper confines of The House. Past the half destroyed walls and bits of furniture she found the improvised beds hiding in the almost complete darkness; straw mattresses, covered in blankets and stuffed between old furniture with an improvised curtain for a semblance of privacy.

Red fell face first into the mattress with an involuntary hiss dragged out of her from the pain in her side. She hoped the wound hadn't reopened further. The smell of sweat, cold dew, and straw arose from the blankets as Red breathed in deeply. She had long since stopped caring about the cleanliness of the places she slept, so long as it didn't have any suspicious stains or anything unbearably foul and was better than sleeping out on the street again. She lay there for a while just enjoying the cold and itch of the woollen blankets on her face and the exposed skin of her arms. But the Transistor weighed down on her like a boulder. The Transistor pressed down on her in the darkness, it smothered her the darkness, and with the dull ache of her limbs, her stomach, her heart, it tempted her to just let everything go.

Red pulled in a small breath, then let it out. She tried to pull in a smaller breathe, then let it out. She then tried to pull in an even smaller breathe, seeing how little she could pull in before she pulled in nothing at all and had to hold her breathe. In the darkness she played her little game, waiting to see how long she could go before instinct forced her breathe. Red waited for the darkness to swallow her whole and never let go. Red waited for the Transistor to consume her and reunite her with him.

"Another Job well done, ay Red?" Blues voice pulled her back.

Red drew in a deep breath and then let out a soft moan through the blanket in response. She prayed he couldn't hear the shame and frustration in her voice whilst a spiteful part of her noted the loss. She drew another deep breath in to fill her limbs with strength to push herself up into a sitting position in an effort to stay awake. She pulled off the Transistor and leaned it against the wall opposite her.

"Guess that means we're back in the Falcons good books." The eye of the Transistors eye flashed with Blues words so softly it was barely noticeable even in the darkness.

Red gave him a weak smile and shook her head.

It will take more than a few errands like this to get back into her good books. She thought.

She drew the ill fitting curtain close and plunged them into complete pitch black darkness. Red could hear a snore from the other bed past the shelf her at her back alongside the sound of shuffling feet, and the general sounds of people trying hard not to be heard. Red had seen more people than ever in the House, mostly just shadows in the darkness or glimpses of people sitting in pairs discussing hushed secrets with each other, likely the Falcon was pulling everyone in before she sent them elsewhere to safety. Red hissed in pain as she pulled off her boots.

"Okay, granted McCaverns now being guarded isn't the best news." Dim crimson shadows filled the space in time with his words. Somehow the Transistor had no problem letting Blue see in the darkness. " But we still erased the record. We did the job, Red, and the others as well this past week so...lets hope it was enough..."

Red worked to nestle herself beneath the blankets and try to get comfortable as Blue spoke. Even for her the alcove was too short to actually stretch out fully and she was left in a half curled position.

"So, how was your day?" Blue asked happily. Red rolled her eyes at him through the darkness even as a smile toyed at the edges of her lips. She could hear the smile in his voice. "Sorry, the roast is going to be about another half an hour. Don't know about you but I have been really busy today; cleared the gutters, did some shopping, even bumped into Darcy in the cheese aisle with her other man. Can you believe it?"

"I know! Exactly what I thought." He continued when Red had put on a shocked expression for him. "Worst of all it wasn't even the butler this time." He drawled with a judging tone filling his voice and Red, his almost unwilling volunteer to the game, then frowned in mock confusion. "No, she traded him in. Went for the younger model."

Red held in a pained groan, she hated, hated, this bit he did; pretending to be some generic house-husband as if she had just come home from work. But despite it all she always found herself playing along in the evenings when he would play this game. Tired as she was Red let him do his bit. She hated it almost as much as she loved it. She loved hearing him talk and tried her best to mime or react as best she could to his little jokes and twists of his tale and she wondered if it was something he did to keep himself sane whilst trapped in there. Her heart ached though, her heart ached with the words she wanted to say, questions she was wanted to ask, to join in the fun with him. Distracted and lost in her sadness she failed to notice the sullen pause which arrived and filled the space between them.

"Hey Red." His sullen tone pulled her back. "Wouldn't it be better if we out there trying to find Jaskier ourselves? I get that Oxenfurt is a pretty large city here but it's barely the size of a terrace, let alone a block. There can't be that many jailhouses around here."

Anxious guilt bit into her heart. Her mind betrayed her with images of Jaskier in some horrible cell where no sunlight could reach him, his fingers broken, his face bloodied, and his body beaten. Viscous diagrams of torture devices from history books rose to the surface of her imagination with Jaskier the screaming victim. She pushed away the images, shoving them deep down into the dark pits of her mind.

We owe them. It took Red several tries drawing the message in the air with her finger for Blue to understand her.

"Yeah I guess we do after...well after everything that happened. But wouldn't it be easier we tried to find him ourselves?"

Wanted by guards. She drew in the air.

"As if that's ever stopped you." A small, disbelieving chuckle came the transistor.

Wanted by Falcon if we run. Not for the first time Red wished she still had her tablet.

"Yeah, Okay. Good point, no need for us to make any more trouble for ourselves. I just hope the poor guy is doing okay. He's done so much for" He paused. "For you since we got here, Red. Promise, you wont leave him waiting too long?"

The blankets rustled quietly with Red nodding in agreement. Stretching her hand out and shuffling forwards in the darkness she gently ran her fingers over the leather sheathe of the Transistor.

"Suppose I shouldn't worry though. You always have a plan."

Red smiled at his confidence in her and wished it wasn't so misplaced. An anxious silence hang between them as her thoughts began to race. How much time did they have? There were several clocks running against them; How long before the Guardsmen found The House? How long before Jaskier was moved out of reach? How long before The Falcon revealed were Jaskier was?

Red rested her head back against where the shelf and the stone wall met and screwed her eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the questions. Instead, she focused on what she could do; the Audio Processing Programme brought the distant noises crashing into her mind. Snoring, shuffling feet, hushed whispered words all suddenly became painfully sharp. The dials and charts in her mind twisted to her thoughts and the unimportant noises faded away leaving only the hushed whispers above the rest.

"-raided last night." The unfamiliar voice whispered. "Gave them up after the guards chopped off the sons hand."

"Who was it?" The falcon sighed, with the sound of something being scratched on parchment.

"Group of three. Came just over a week ago with wounds so missed the last boat out."

"Through the sewers?" A heavy silence followed where neither spoke. "Where?"

"Entered over here and emerged here. So we think they encountered....whatever it is around here. But"

"But a group came in 38th Imbolc, and they said they lost a member here." A tapping noise, something had been placed down. "Then Birke 29th, a pair entered here but three arrived at The Bridled Mare."

"Week and a half ago. Yennefer and the human?" The unfamiliar voiced asked.

Exhaustion was pulling at the frayed ends of Reds concentration despite the conversation she was trying to listen in on.

The Falcon gave a two toned noise of approval. "Again, reports of that thing in the sewers but they would've encountered it over here." Another noise of something being placed.

"We could use the docks?" The unfamiliar voice suggested. "There's several fishing boats and smaller craft we could use. All in decent condition."

"No. Dock's too heavily guarded right now after what happened with the Sandpiper, and Phoenix's own work covering our tracks has got them riled up. No, too risky." Another heavy silence settled for a minute. "Sewers have served us well till now. How many can you spare?"

"Half a dozen. Rest are spreading the word to ready to leave."

"Good. Get some pairs together to mark us a route through the Sewers, but stay away from the water at all costs."

The rest of the conversation was lost to her dreams.

"Red, wake up!" Blues voice shattered her nightmare. "Somethings going on Red, you need to wake up."

"Phoenix. Get up!" Another voice assulted her.

Red was shaken violently awake. Frantic sounds of movement came from all around her. There was no light but she could feel the hot breath of whomever was shaking her against her face. Programmes came online in an instant and began diligently overlaying the world around her in blue outlines. A face was then highlighted almost feebly in front of her.

"They found us. We need to leave now!" The woman then hurried away from her and out of sight.

The Falcons voice came shouting from out of sight and in it Red heard something she hadn't heard before; fear, worry.

Suddenly feeling very awake, Red hurriedly put on her jacket, her bag, and the Transistor. She stumbled out of her alcove with one boot on and hopping wildly to pull on the other. She looked left and right trying to get her bearings whilst shouting shadows dashed past her. Orders were being barked by several voices; "Get a torch, set the place alight.", "Leave anything you can't carry.", "Get moving, now!", "They're breaking in.", "not this way, turn around.". Between it all muffled shouts could be heard accompanying loud crashes and thuds echoing from seemingly different places all around. It took Red a few moments to realise those other noises were coming from outside the House, it was the noise of someone trying to break in.

"We're out of time Red. You need to get out of here. Above everything else you need to get out."

"Following me. Now" A shadow snatched her arm and pulled her to the left. It was the Falcon. Still with Reds arm in her tight grip, she spun her head round to shout towards another pair of shadows. "You two, get out the back and split. Go straight to the sewers and get to the meeting point. If you meet any runners pass along the message 'The Roost has fallen'."

"Wait, what meeting point? We weren't told about that?"

"So its true then that the Sandpiper ratted us out?" one of the shadows said.

"No." The Falcon snapped.

"Why else would they be here?"

"The Sandpiper is a lot of things, but he aint a traitor." The Falcon was still marching on with Red in tow. "Half the guard was looking for us, it was only time before they found us anyway."

The pair followed after them with more figures emerging from other alcoves and walls joining them. Splintering wood could be heard from behind them all as the group charged ahead past empty shelves and furniture, through the opening room, towards the opposite end of The House. The table that had before sat in the centre had been upended and pushed against the door, only able to fit between the remaining walls side on but with boxes, chairs, and other pieces of rubble to wedging it in. A loud crash from the other side of the front door made it shudder in place.

The Falcon tugged Red closer to her. "Hasn't even been questioned yet." The comment made Red do a double take wondering if she had heard correctly.

The shadows around them suddenly shattered, splintered with light with the sound of wood tearing. "Stop, in the name of the law!"

Red heard the Falcon swore as she looked back. Red followed her gaze and saw a column of light broken by the silhouette of a helmet, stretched across the floor behind them. The faces of almost a dozen other people all looking similarly scared shone around her.

"Get moving now, I'll explain later."

The Falcon urged the others ahead of herself and Red, and they ran into thedark doorway straight ahead to the opposite end of The House. There walls from the connected buildings had been left mostly intact and made a maze of themselves inside the innards of The House.

"Follow me. There's not much time." The Falcon pulled Red in the same direction with the sound of splintering wood laughing in their ears.

Before Red had a moment for her eyes to adjust, she was then pulled sharply to the left again and her stray arm banged against what she could only assume was a door frame. There was no sign of the others who had gone before. They must have gone into a room as she heard the sound of a door being slammed shut followed promptly by the sound of a latch scratching into place. Without even a trace of light Reds NIRV struggled to make out where the Falcon was, let alone make out anything of the room. Feeling completely blind without the Falcons hand around her arm, one hand instinctively went to the handle of the Transistor above her head while the other blindly reached out to her side hunting for a wall.

"You should not trust the Sandpiper." The Falcon, barely more than a darker patch of shadow, barged past.

"What? Why?"

Thumping noises then came from her direction and then thin slivers of light stabbed between the slats of a wooden panel into the surprisingly tiny room. Reds NIRV then revealed the shapes of boxes and crates stacked around her and the Falcon added one more to a hap-hazard pile to her right.

"He didn't rat us out, I know he did, know he wouldn't. But something is very wrong here. Over a week. Not moved. Not questioned. After everything with Yennefer, plus his other charges it doesn't make sense. The birds I have up in the lords house say they know who he is; know he's the Sandpiper." She pushed the stack of boxes she had built away from the wall, and then began trying to wedge her fingers into the gaps of light. "Constable Donovan himself gave the order to move him days ago but it's not been carried out and no one we have can say why. It's got me worried Phoenix. Makes me think someone else has their eyes on him."

With a grunt from The Falcon light suddenly burst into the room. Red, momentarily blinded by the light before her NIRV compensated for it, was still struck dumb by The Falcons suggestion. Given Jaskiers latest line of work and where he was being held, the idea that someone had taken an interest in him didn't fill Red with any degree of reassurance.

Red jumped to face the door where the distant roar of crumbling stone and splintering wood came with the sound of victorious cheers. Beyond the closed door then came the sounds of shouting and destruction slowly becoming louder, drawing closer. They didn't have much time. She looked back to the Falcon now feverishly tugging at the last piece of wood lodged stubbornly in the wall until it came free with one last heave, and threw it too the ground. The window at Reds shoulder height was now completely unblocked, allowing early morning sunshine and fresh air to come pouring in. Its was a small window though, barely taller or wider than length of her forearm. It was going to be a tight squeeze.

"Phoenix." The Falcon turned and gripped Red by the shoulders. "The Sandpiper is the North East corner of the Guard house near the Eastern gate. Guard is light right now with the lock down in place, but they're looking for you as well. You need to act fast and get out of Oxenfurt with or without the Sandpiper. Go along the shoreline, you should be safe enough there."

Another crash from beyond the door much closer this time. "Over here boys. They must've gone this way."

The Falcon swore. "Move." She swung Red around and pushed her towards the window.

Red skidded to a stop at the window, then pointed towards the Falcon and back to the open window.

"I won't fit. Get going now." Falcon already had her hand on the door handle. Her face set hard with resolve. "I'll distract them."

Red nodded, wishing for a moment to give the other woman a hug, a thank you, an apology, something to to make this all worth it. But there wasn't time. Instead, she turned to the open window and threw the Transistor through it, she'd just get stuck if she was wearing it, and threw her bag after it. After grabbing a crate to stand on, she threw her self after the Transistor. The frame bit into her palms and tried to peel her jacket away as she squeezed through. She paused when halfway through to see the short drop below her and the Transistor staring with its eye up at her amongst a collection of rubbish. Red twisted round with some difficulty, splintering wood bit into her hip, and then fell out the window the rest of the way. She granted as she hit the Transistor and the debris surrounding it with a loud crash.

"You okay?"

Red simply gave a two toned 'mhm' scrambling off of the floor, and looked through the window into an empty room with the door closed. She could hear people shouting. Her heart twisted with worry. But she didn't have time for this, she could hear more calling coming from nearby; the streets were no doubt crawling with opportunistic guards looking to pounce upon anyone found scurrying out of hiding holes. After pulling the Transistor back onto her back and her bag over her shoulder, Red took off down the filthy street ahead of her. She threw a wishful hope and a prayer for the Falcon behind her.

Peaking it's head from between the clouds, The sun stared down at the roiling streets of Oxenfurt to offer it's meagre warmth before the wind stripped it away. The sun had been sweeping low across the sky over the hours Red spent hunting for the Guard House, while at the same time backtracking, looping, and ducking away from prowling patrols haunting the streets. Oxenfurt had become a powder-keg over the last few days. Wanted posters bearing Yennefers image danced around her heels.

The Guard House lay roughly half-mile from the Eastern Gate itself, just as the Falcon had said. With her hood up and pulled as far forward as she could to hide her face, she peered around the corner and spied upon the Eastern Guard House. It was a wide, squat stone building which stuck out from the East side of stone wall surround Oxenfurt and given a wide berth by the other buildings leaning away from it as if in disgust. It was hard to tell who detested who more; the two guards squatting on the stools outside playing dice or the passers-by, both parties shot each other equally sour looks while shouting abuse to each other.

Despite this animosity, the road in front of the Guard House was still busy. It was a roiling river people trying going about their business as best they could with the Embargo now in full force. Merchants shouted their heightened prices from their unusually barren carts while nearby onlookers feverishly counted up their coins hoping they had duplicated between blinks.

Red shoved her hands deeper into her pockets and stamped her feet in an effort to force some warmth back into them. From her hiding spot at the corner of the street looking at the North-East corner of the Guard House, she had the perfect viewing angle to watch a stone sail through the air and strike one of the guards in the head with a dull clang. There was a victorious cheer from somewhere in the crowd even as the Guard brandished her pike loudly to everyone nearby. All the crowd would need was another push and they would undoubtedly rush the Guards, Red saved the little mental note for later.

She had already spent over half an hour standing there between the buildings shadow and the support of its overhang, trying to track the guards movements. She was hoping for a changing of the guard that she could use to maybe slip into the building during but so far that didn't look to be happening any time soon ad the two Guards began another round. But all that time had allowed her to visually scour the Guard House trying to spy some way in. From where she was standing, she could see the buildings Western face with a set of solid looking wooden doors behind the seated Guards at its centre, and the Southern side which had only a few crude drawings stubbornly engraved in the bricks.

She had to get to the cells at the furthest corner away from her to where Jaskier was being held. But unless there was a side door or a 'Red sized' window she could slip through it was starting to look like the front door was her only option. With a grunt of frustration she turned and walked back up the street away from the Guard House, heading first to the South and then following the street as it turned Westwards. Keeping her head down, she took the first right turn and entered another wide street filled with a sea of bodies and carts.

This close to the Eastern gate, the streets were packed with carts and oxen of those still trying to make their way through the blockades without success, and then trying to to turn their carts around also without success. Needless to say, the tension and anger in the streets was starting to reach boiling point. Reds stomach did a small somersault when a Merchant nearby suddenly began shouting and cursing the Lord of Oxenfurt for all this mess.

Another right turn allowed her to escape the masses into a less crowded though much narrower street heading East again, back towards the Guard House but with a the benefit of a row of buildings between. After Wading across another main street she was confronted by the curtain the buildings that hugged the wall of Oxenfurt. Turning right on her heel to face the South again she followed the buildings, they almost grew like mould upon the wall, and were entirely forgotten by the sun so early in the year, their timbers held onto a damp sheen and smelled of rot. There was practically no one in sight but even so Red didn't dare trust the blind windows and empty shadows watching her. She continued forwards after spying a narrow gap between the two buildings ahead of her leaning drunkenly against each others shoulders. Darkness enveloped her again as she slid into the alley between them. Mud clung to her boots and the building on her left snatched at her back with its stony exterior, but she pushed through.

Reaching the end of the gap she was rewarded with the sight of the Northern side of the Guard House. A stone brick wall with two eyes filled with vertical iron bars, and sadly not 'Red sized' windows to be seen. Trickling out from between the bars on the right she could hear a voice humming a tune interspersed with words. She recognised Jaskiers voice. Hope surged up in her chest. She quickly tempered it, she was still in danger and couldn't risk any rash actions now. The gulf between her and the wall seemed almost an endless pool of light. Tentatively, she stuck her head out to look to the cobbles of Oxenfurts wall on her left thankfully without anyone standing at the top. Then looking right she was relieved to not see any guards or anyone else who might be lurking nearby. Beyond a stack of crates and barrels at the buildings corner she could see the sea of people moving by without casting even so much as a glance in her direction. She gave once last glance back up the alley she had come to confirm no one was following her.

Red Chewed her lip, turning back to the Guard House before her, knowing her next moves would have to be quick and methodical knowing there was no room for anything else to go wrong. In her mind she was already drawing up ways to rile up the crowd outside; she still had a few crowns she could bribe someone with to throw some more stones but that would be someone else in danger, she could rush the guards and lead them away , or she could even attack and hope more of the crowd joined her. Red put the ideas to simmer in a corner of her mind so she could focus on the present.

Red nearly threw herself across the gap as she bolted over to the Guard House and landed against the wall. She looked to her right and dared to raise her head a little to see above the stack of barrels obscuring her view of the street. No one was looking at her, not even a glance as they continued on past her hiding spot. Kneeling beneath the rightmost cell window she could hear the voice of Jaskier loud and clear with a sound of something tapping a tune away in time with his words.

...

The tricks and tales that traitors tell To help you see that freedom is all you've got

So lock me up and sock me up

And throw away the key

Go fuck yourself, you whoreson

Cause you're through fuckin' with me

"All together now!" Jaskiers voice jumped out between the bars and tumbled into another verse.

The windows were just a bit higher than she was tall. Red had to reach up and latch her fingers onto the sill before she could pull her chin up to the bars and see inside. She was greeted by the sight of wooden walls and a floor covered with straw confirming she was looking into a cell. She cast her eyes downwards as far as she could and saw sticking out from below her a pair of plain brown trousers, black boots, and the bottom half of a long purple jacket. Even if she couldn't hear him vocalising his woes she knew that jacket anywhere. She let herself drop quietly back to the ground, now almost giddy with hope, and rummaged through her pockets for a small note she had written earlier.

On my way. Stay put. R.

Red the note slipped silently between the bars.

"Someone's watching us."

The singing stopped. Someone inside shouted for quiet. Red sunk into her knees and froze, half kneeling, facing the stone brick wall in front of her. She could hear Jaskier in his cell suddenly scrambling to his feet and moving, probably to the bars of the window trying to look for her. Momentarily Red wondered if he could actually see her or even the handle of The Transistor from where he was. If Jaskier could see her at all, he didn't see anything.

"Still there Red." Blue whispered needlessly. "Looking down at us from the end of the alley. Too far to tell who it is. Might be a guard or something."

Red swore inwardly. She would have to act quicker than she had planned. She could hear Jaskier again moving in his cell and sliding down to the floor with a heavy sigh. His voice came crawling out from between the bars above her.

And so bound by these four walls

There are now none to hear my calls

It is my freedom I have lost

It was my freedom that was the cost

So you locked me up and socked me up

Then threw away the key

Go fuck yourself, you whoreson

Now you're through fuckin' with me

She took it as her signal. She twisted on the balls of feet, spinning around completely only to catch a glimpse of a shadow slipping out of sight at the end of the alley. Red sucked on her teeth with worry swirling now in her chest. She had to act. She had to take the risk. She turned again to her left and propelled herself forwards, taking off like a bullet from a gun Red sprinted towards the stack of barrels that had been hiding her. She leapt over them and into the crowd.

Chapter Text

The light drizzle cascading down the glass became a torrential downpour in a matter of moments at exactly 17:30pm, just as scheduled. From within the dry comfort of the taxi, Auden watched the nearby buildings fly past as he was sped along the motorway. The far away buildings, structures, and decorative sculptures of Highrise lazily meandered past in the haze of the ongoing downpour.

He sneered at the sight of it. It always annoyed him how everyone voted for the downpours to be in the evenings or overnight without any real care for who might be working then. Inside the Taxi he was safe and comfortably warm, protected from the heavy rain that run over the glass ceiling above him without so much as a whisper of sound. On the front windscreen a map politely tracked the Taxis progress on it’s journey.

Destination: The Empty Set
Arrival Time: 30 Minutes

He could see The Empty Lot rising high in the distance between the gaps of the tower blocks. Despite only being the 345th tallest building in Cloudbank, it rose through the pathways, auto-roads, and train-lines wrapping around it like halos with a surreal majesty. And much like an angel, it unfurled wings of golden light from its black, square body, stepping higher and higher into the downpour in segments shaped as upside down pyramids.

It was awe inspiring, he had to admit. As much as Auden hated this side of Cloudbank the architects here knew how to make a building.

The rain and view of Highrise were both suddenly wiped away by a solid concrete wall as the Taxi entered a tunnel, with the lights set into the wall blurring past. Auden felt rather than heard the Taxis engines kick into high gear with the subtle weight of inertia pushing him into the leather seat. There was nothing to see here, no panoramic vistas, no works of art in the sky, no impressive buildings to see. He let his head rest against the window and closed his eyes for a moment and the taxi politely darkened its windows for him.

“Authentication: Successful.” A plain voice came through the speakers with calculated politeness. “You will be arriving at your destination, The Empty Lot, Staff Entrance C1, shortly. Please make sure you have all your belonging before you depart. We thank you, Guest, for your patronage.”

Auden pulled himself out of his sleepless doze with a grunt and stretched as much as he could in the confined space. He looked around through the windows to see the tunnel had widened into a large, enclosed space; a mix between a warehouse and a car park. The Taxi had slowed down to a jogging speed following a painted yellow line ahead towards a loading bay at the end. It had one large shutter currently closed, with a small access door beside it. He couldn’t see anyone on the platform.

“You have now arrived.” The Taxi chimed, coming to a stop before the loading bay.

He waited a moment inside the taxi to see if anyone would come out and greet him from between the various vehicles and storage containers piled up in bays and along the walls. He was meant to be meeting someone but no one appeared. With a small huff of annoyance he clambered out of the taxi, pulling his phone from his pocket. The screen came to life at his touch and he scrolled through his contacts while watching the Taxi retreat the way it had come.

The trilling dial tone from his phone filled the silent cavern.

A rattling squeak shattered the silence, making Auden jump and turn look behind him as someone came through the smaller door of the loading bay.

A woman came into view though stood in the open doorway looking down at him. Silver hair draped down as a waterfall behind her ears, held out the way of her dark eyes by a dark red, circular hair clip he could see peaking out from behind her head. She wore a simple white dress, cinched at her waist but a simple black ribbon, beneath a similarly white blazer with black labels. Her mouth seemed slightly too wide for her face, and the effect only seemed more pronounced as she smiled down at him.

“Mr Smith, I presume.” She announced.

“Yeah, that’s me. Auden Smith.” Auden had already cancelled the call and made his way up the stairs to the woman. He held out his hand to the woman politely. “Nice to meet you.”

The woman looked down at his hand for a split second, as if he were a dog who had performed some unexpected trick, before shaking it. She gave a small smile that exposed several very white, perfectly straight teeth. “Sybil Reisz. My apologies for not being here when you arrived but I had some business to attend to. This way please, Mr Smith.”

“Ah so are you that Sybil?” Auden asked politely as he scurried past her. “The one who organises all those parties and galas, right?”

“Miss Reisz.” Sybil corrected, and Auden tried hard not to wince, as she pulled the door firmly closed behind her with some force. “And yes, the very same. Have you worked at one of my events then?” She asked, still wearing her polite smile.

“No, no. Some of my colleagues have.” Auden tried not to feel insulted as he followed after her.

“Ah, of course. Well moving on.” Sybil curtly cut the conversation thread. “As I discussed with your employer, and should have been communicated to you; your role will last for the week with a possibility of future opportunities depending on your performance. You will be expected to spend all of your shift within eye sight of the subject, with the exception of agreed breaks which will be arranged at the start of each shift. You will arrive and leave the premises through the loading bay, as we have just done so. Leaving or Entering through the main entrance unless accompanying the subject will be classed as insubordination and will be addressed in the appropriate manner.”

Auden wasn’t entirely sure when the conversation had switched from polite introductions to his induction. He followed Miss Reisz through the storage room and then through a bare concrete corridor while she continued to explain his role and expected responsibilities. He wondered if she was simply reading his contract or had it memorised.

“Is that all clear for you?” Sybil asked, stopping at a set of wide metal doors. An elevator. “It was all set out in your contract which I assume employer will have printed off for you to read.”

“Yeah, yeah, read it over last week. Signed it too on the fancy computer machine we have at the office, funnily enough.” He said trying to hide his annoyance.

Miss Reisz smiled at him, a thin smile, as if he were a child she was simply entertaining. Presently, the elevator chimed and the metal doors slide open.

“Of course.” The air turned to ice around her words. “Well, let us move on. This way please.”

At her gesture he moved into the thankfully spacious elevator. The Doors closed behind Miss Reisz as she entered and then came the subtle lurch of the floor as it began to take the pair upwards. Auden noticed with annoyance but without surprise that there weren’t any actual buttons. He would have to figure out how to setup his phone to work in this place.

“Do I need to use this elevator?” He broke the tense silence.

“Preferably, yes, you will. As I stated previously you are to stay out of sight unless accompanying the subject.”

“There’s no buttons in here, and I don’t have a NIRV. Can I conn-”

Miss Reisz cut across his sentence. “Someone will escort you.”

“…oh…great.” Auden smiled tightly.

A chilly silence settled in the elevator leaving him wondering how many floors this place had. From his drive it the building had looked to have at least a few hundred and now trapped in the elevator, decorated in simple cold, bare metal, he wondered just how high they had to go. Beneath the silence he could just about hear the dull whine of the Elevators motors, the small ‘thunks’ as the only signs they were moving and passing by floors. There wasn’t even a little screen to say what floor they were heading to.

“If I may, Mr Smith, may I ask what made you choose to go Grey?” Sybil asked from the other side of the elevator without directly looking at him. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting someone before who has had their NIRV removed. It had taken enquiries at several firms without any luck before finding you.”

“Oh.” Auden cleared his throat with a dreaded feeling he knew where the conversation was going. “Wasn’t a choice actually. I had to get it taken out.”

“Oh?” Her voice rose with her chin in morbid curiosity. They all did.

“Stroke. Meant it had to be removed.”

“A stroke.” She commented, not asked, in morbid curiosity as they all did. “Even though NIRVs help prevent that. Ah, here we are.”

The Elevator had chimed politely that they had arrived at their floor, and the doors slid open to reveal a much grander corridor than the one downstairs; rich dark crimson velvet carpet with white trim, the walls a clean white interspersed with unobtrusive black lampshades set between posters of acts from previous years dominating floor to ceiling sections of the walls. It was like stepping into a museum of The Empty Lot itself missing only the little explanatory labels beside each poster.

Auden followed Miss Reizs out of the elevator and down the hall, already mentally checking out as he ran the now well practised speech. “They do but sometimes they get installed wrong, or a chip gets fried. Even getting knocked hard enough can cause some damage.”

“Really now?” She still wasn’t looking at him. “Still, such things must not happen all that often. After all everyone has one now.”

“Well, everyone in Cloudbank anyway. Its rare. But it happens. So how come you were looking for a Grey like me anyway? ‘If I may?’” He mentally binned his earlier pride at being asked for specifically.

“Got a customer who wants a guy just like you, Auden.” His boss had said, while completely neglecting what he meant by ‘just like you’. Auden made a note to make some sort of report for whatever good it might do.

A tense moment of silence fell with only the sound of their footsteps down the empty hallway. “There had been a data breach. Your predecessor had broken their NDA by releasing several images and conversations to the public. An outright betrayal of the confidentiality and privacy that was expected of them.” Sybil explained with an unexpected rise in her voice came with a vicious edge. “But despite the minor embarrassment caused the show must continue. The perpetrator has since been dealt with in the appropriate manner of course.”

“Oh I’m so sorry about that, Miss Reisz.” Auden put two and two together. He was a Grey so she likely thought that he was completely unable to save images or sounds in his mind. Which was true but it still annoyed him to think he was being employed for what he couldn’t do rather than what he could do. “Well, I promise you that both your privacy and confidence are important.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Mr Smith.” They stopped by a door and now, only now did Sybil look directly at him. Her smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But I am not employing you to be my bodyguard.”

It was then, perfectly timed, that Miss Reisz came to a stop beside a plain wooden door. Like all the tohers they had passed it was nestled between two floor to ceiling posters of acts from bygone years. The woman clicked her heels together and stood up straight and proud pointing her chin towards the door.

“Oh.” Auden commented. “So…who am I guarding then?”

A small crease appeared between Miss Reizs’s eyebrows when she looked at the door and then back at Auden. Auden withheld a tired sigh and simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Can you not read?”

He bit back a comment, wondering if he should just quit the job now. “Not if there’s no actual sign.”

“Ah, of course. I see. My apologies Mr Smith. It appears we will have to make some further accommodations for you.” Miss Reisz did very little to hide her annoyance. “Moving on. For the next week your task will be to guard the musical genius that is Red.”

Chapter Text

Red. A pupil the colour of blood within a ring of ruby red, surrounded by another ring of blood red, floating in a sea of ruby.

Geralt would have missed it entirely if he hadn't been travelling westward up one of Oxenfurts main streets. It was just as Yennefer had said; a large Great Sword covered in a leather sheathe, bearing a ridiculously large jewel. Oddly, a smaller leather sheathe also covered the pommel. He noted with some curiosity the eyes of others around the woman and her strange weapon, as they latched onto the jewel for a moment then quickly look away. Unease stirred in his stomach.

'Truly, everyone knows not to touch her. But why?'

Geralt left the question behind as he pushed through the sea of bodies after the Eye and its carrier, Red, heading westwards as well. He followed after her while making sure to keep several people between them as he sized her up as best he could; she was short, up to his shoulders at most, allowing her to slip through the crowd without much effort. She wore a strange dark jacket, with a cream coloured hood pulled forward past her face likely to shield it from view as she glanced left and right. Luckily, she didn't look back. A nearby merchant suddenly cursing the local Lord made her jump.

Geralt had been pointed to the Eastern Guard House that morning by a woman in the Inn, said her name was Merrily, as a likely place Jaskier would be, after apparently recognising Geralt from Jaskiers Songs. Not for the first time Geralt had had to thank the Bard for the fame he endured. Merrily had wisely still been guarded until she had confirmed Geralt was who he said by way of his medallion, and even then asked the important question.

"So, why are you after him? Another spurned lover perhaps?"

"He's a friend." He had whispered, truthfully, over the bar. And earning a smile from Merrily he couldn't figure out. "One I had heard from another that he was in trouble."

"That he is sir, and I dare say much more trouble than you think." Merrily had come closer under the pretence of scrubbing the bar. "But he's well looked after I can tell you that. Odds are you'll bump into his bodyguard along the way."

"Red?"

She had nodded once. "Just a little dame but don't let looks fool you; she is a force to be reckoned with. Apparently helped write some of his songs but I had never heard so much as a peep from the woman. Scrawny as anything but carries a big club on her back. You might bump into her if you're lucky, and move quick. Think she might be a mage of some kind so no one messes with her."

He had taken stock of this new puzzle piece whilst drumming the bar with fingers. "So where can I find her?"

Merrily's wiping came to a halt and her eyes danced frantically. He could see her thinking hard about what to say next, hear her breath halt in her throat. Geralt remembered the smell of smoke and charred wood clung to her fiercely even though the fire in the fireplace had still been young.

"Trying to find him I expect, no idea elsewise. Guards took him days ago, and...been a lot of singing towards the Guard House on the East side."

Putting the memory aside, Geralt continued following Red through the torrent of people. When she took a right turn, leaving the crowds, he waited on the corner for a few breathes before he followed. Despite it being less populated, it was narrower and forced any travellers closer together which gave Geralt enough cover to follow comfortably at the same distance as before. Red then took another right which from his recollection of Oxenfurts streets would take her to the outer wall. Again he waited patiently at the corner for several moments before following, and stepped into a street empty save for a handful of souls. He took refuge under in the shadows beneath the rotting buildings that clung like lichens to the outer wall. He had to pick his way across the muddy cobbles at the streets edge, fearing that his footing or the sound of his foot being pulled from the mud might betray him. Still Red had not turned to look behind her. That alone worried him.

The street soon came to a dead end at a curtain of crumbling buildings. When Red stopped, Geralt crouched behind a stack of boxes. Peaking between boxes he watched her move left and right before she spied the gap between two especially weary looking buildings , and then slip into the shadows between them. He waited until she was almost entirely engulfed by the darkness before he then went up to the gap. Peering down with only one eye through the darkness he had to dilate his pupils slightly so as to see that Red had just made it to the other end but still stood huddled within the safety of the gap. Past her though he could a grey brick wall with two windows filled by wooden bars. From between the bars afamiliar voice sauntering down through the gap towards him. Geralt felt his heart seize, breath caught in his lungs as realisation dawned; he was at the Eastern Guard House, and that Red had lead him to it, and to Jaskier.

Geralt forced himself still. With a trained resolve he held tight the need to go charging forward to rescue his friend. Right now he had to focus on Red; he needed to figure out just what exactly she was doing. He watched her dash out across the ravine of light into the safety of shadow of the Guard house wall. He continued to watch her still when she rose up from where she crouched and then duck down again. The singing came to a stop. Why? Had she dropped something into the cell?

From the shadows of the cell, hands wrapped around the wooden bars then followed by a face changed by time, and with a swollen lip and one swollen shut, but Geralt still recognised and knew. The face was different than Geralt remembered as it had become thinner over time and stubble outlined the jaw and sinking cheeks, and brown hung past the ears. Jaskier stared out into the sunlight looking around frantically. Something in Geralts chest jumped into his throat when Jaskiers grey eyes slipped past his hiding spot. He moved his head so he could see Jaskier better with both eyes so to drink in what he could see of his friend, now turned almost to a stranger by time. He watched Jaskier trying in vain to look around beyond the bars of his cell. Geralt swallowed the words demanding to be shouted.

Warning bells then began to ring in his mind; Red hadn't moved from her spot. Throwing one last glance at Jaskier still looking about feverishly, Geralt then pulled himself away from the gap while still keeping one eye trained on Red.

Did she know he was there? She hadn't turned around so there was no way she could have seen him. Perhaps she had heard him?

Geralt continued to watch. He continued to examine the crimson Eye on her back. With his left hand he felt for the familiar lump of his Medallion beneath his black leather armour and feeling it completely inert banished a creeping thought. Red began to turn on her heels. Geralt pulled himself out of sight. He listened intently for the sound of feet coming down the alley.

The sound of feet scrambling on loose stones came from the alley growing quieter as the owner of said feet ran away.

Geralt swore. He plunged down the gap between the buildings, pushing and fighting his way past the scratching bricks, stone, and moss until he burst out the other side. He paused for a second before the bars fighting the urge to call in. He gritted his teeth, holding back the cries, and set off down the alley after Red.

Jumping over the barrels at the end of the side street landed him in a whirlwind of activity. A storm of people were raining screams and blows upon the huddled forms they had amassed around with furious excitement. A helmet, scuffed, dented then rose above the crowd with a cry rallying another round of people to come crashing in as the first carried away their prize.

That was not Geralts problem nor did he have any intention to make it his problem.

His gaze snapped towards the double doors of the Guard house caved in at the centre and still swinging on their hinges from the force. Another question Geralt put to the back of his mind to ponder later. He fought his way past fringes of the crowd to the doors and into the guardhouse itself. What little warmth of the day there was then vanished instantly when he entered the stone hallway.

Doors on either side of the wall way lead into unknown rooms. But Geralts focuse was on the scene unfolding about midway down the hall in front of him. Red was crouching before the stricken form of a guard. No longer constrained her a hood, bright crimson hair fell to her shoulders. The guard lay side-wards against the wall with a vacant stare and scorched stone a few steps away from him. As Geralt took in the scene Red gave a victorious 'ah ha!' and pulled a set of keys from the guard. The crimson Eye of her weapon was looking at Geralt. Red turned to face him, fear pulling her eyes wide and jaw clenched.

Geralt raised a hand in peace whilst the other reached down to the daggers on his thighs. "It's okay, I-" Red vanished. Geralt barely had the chance to blink in surprise. His skull crashed into the ceiling, stars exploding behind his eyes. He fell. Something smashed into his his side and he hit the wall.

Rigorous training tempered by the years into instinct then took over; sliding down the wall his pinky bent, ring and middle finger together, and thumb tucked in, the Quen solidified the air in front of him into rivulets of silver against any oncoming blows. But Nothing came. After the stars in his eyes quickly faded Geralt was able to look past the Quen to see the hallway empty save for himself and the Guard. Swearing again, he pulled himself off the ground and charged down the hallway. His head swam each time he stopped at an open door to look into the vacant rooms. Still, he pushed himself forward. Ahead of him the hall came to an end with only one doorway to the right. From beyond the corner he could hear frantic shouting and the sad groan of a metal door being opened. The low ceiling left no room for him to use the swords on his back, instead leaving him only the daggers at his thighs to reach for.

Red came flying out of the doorway and nearly slipped, bouncing off the wall with the weapon still in hand and in the other, she dragged a man in a purple leather jacket behind her.

"Geralt!?" The word fell out of the mans mouth.

Geralt, and his heart, stumbled to a stop. Holding Reds hand was the owner of the voice; Jaskier. The two men stared at each other. Geralt held his jaw firm while he watched Jaskiers flap uselessly in surprise, and Red's eyes jumped between them both. He wondered for a moment if he imagined the strange jewel of Reds weapon flashing in the dim light.

'"Bodyguard", of course' Geralt thought to himself when his gaze slipped down to their hands wrapped together.

He should have known, though why Yennefer never said was another question to be added to the ever growing pile about this woman. Geralt puled himself out of the fighting stance and turned on his heel, heading back down the corridor as he re-sheethed the dagger he had drawn. Jaskier meanwhile was still standing like a statue with Red awkwardly still attached.

The downed Guard began to rise and groan. "Stop, in the name-" Geralts boot shoved the rest of the words back into his mouth.

"Be Quiet." He ordered the Guard who wisely listened while trying to hold in his teeth, and then looked over his shoulder only to say, "We need to go."

"What are you doing here?" Jaskiers voice and footsteps followed after Geralt.

"No time. We need to go."

"Oh no." Jaskier replied with a warning chuckle.

A hand grabbed Geralts arm and pulled him to a stop. Geralt could have easily carried on through the hands grip as if walking through reeds in a pond, but surprise at the act and what could generously be called a threat hidden in Jakiers chuckle. So Geralt let himself be stopped and turned around to meet Jaskiers look of flabagasted fury. Geralt could hear the mans heart beating hard like a drum and fast as a galloping horse. Red however, he noted, looked on from from the safety of a few steps away strapping her weapon onto her back, and winced when the guard pulled back his fingers from his mouth to find them covered in blood.

"What are you doing here?" Jaskier asked, pulling Geralts focus back onto him.

"Theres no time." Geralt repeated and tried to turn but was again stopped by Jaskier, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back.

Jaskier let out low angry chuckle. "Oh yes there is. Last time we saw each other you basically told me to fuck off. Remember? And you left me on a mountain! Have you seen these boots?" Jaskiers gestured to said boots with shaking hands, venom dripping from his words even despite the neutral expression. "I mean, I pretty much slid back down to Caingorn."

"Jaskier." Geralt rumbled as he looked down at the Guard again trying to hold his teeth in. Trying to avoid the fury in Jaskiers eyes.

"Don't you 'Jasker' me!" Jaskier pulled Geralts gaze back to him with a jabbing finger into Geralts chest, and nearly spitting with fury. "I'm talking to you. This is how it works. What are you do-"

"I need your help." The words stumbled out of Geralt mouth without his prompting. It was surprising that he meant it.

Jaskier's breath caught in his throat, the anger, the fury, the hurt burning as tears at the edges of his eyes all came to a sudden halt. Geralt watched him blink the tears away and went in for a hug with a "Fuck it."

Geralt surprised himself and wrapping his arms around Jaskier. Something in his chest he hadn't noticed tighten before then unwound in Jaskiers embrace. Nestled in the quiet moment he heard and felt a deep sigh equal parts anger and relief come stamping out of Jaskier. He then felt a double pat on the back signalling the end of the moment and he was released from the embrace.

"Fine." Jaskier whispered and quickly wiped away a rebellious tear. He gave the sentence another go. "Fine, of course that's why you're here. Looks like you've handled things in your usual manner. My, but you have lost your touch haven't you, Geralt?" Jaskier, tapping the top of his head as he sauntered the few steps to the Guard. "Did this charming fellow manage to get a few licks in, hm?"

The Guard simply moaned quietly through his bloody fingers.

Geralt chewed his lower lip while trying to keep his thoughts in order. Above the guilt, the surging adrenaline now leaving his system, and throbbing headache, was the knowledge that they all needed to move as soon as possible before either any reinforcements of the Guard arrived, or the frantic crowd outside turned their vengeful eyes on the building itself. Red had stepped up next to him and pointed with both thumbs towards the door signalling she felt the same way.

"No." He spoke, and felt the top of his skull gingerly. There were a few specks of blood on his gloves but nothing to worry about, a graze and a nasty bruise if anything. It didn't feel quite like a concussion but he couldn't be sure just yet. "This, was from...her."

Jaskier looked to Red, and then to Geralt, and then to Red, and then back at Geralt again. A smile as cruel as it was smug spread across Jaskiers face in direct contrast to Reds own sheepish tightening of the lips.

"Oh so you two have met? Red, Geralt of Rivia. Geralt of Rivia, Red. My friend, confident, and bodyguard." He threw an arm over Reds shoulders.

Red had the good graces to give a sheepish smile before pointing at Geralt, the top of her skull, and mouthed the word 'sorry'. Geralt simply gave a small nod and waved away her apology. They really didn't have time for this nonsense and whatever guilt towards Jaskier he had felt before was rapidly turning to annoyance.

"Jaskier, we need to leave. There's no time. The other-"

"The other Guards could be on their way, yes yes yes. A man of many words and sage advice as always Geralt." Jaskier verbally stomped over him. Despite their tender moment there was still some malice in his voice. "And just as well you came to me for help. Red and I have the perfect escape already sorted. Don't we Red?"

Red nodded. Leaving no more room for further discussion she grabbed hold of Jaskiers hand and, gesturing for Geralt to follow, lead the pair out of the Guard house.

The sewers of Oxenfurt were, in a round about way, the pride and joy of Oxenfurt University for it was through the combined effort of the Scholarly and Mechanically minded people who resided there that the sewers were even passable at all. They proclaimed that great amounts of money and time had gone into restoring the old Elven infrastructure and then connecting up the University and the nearby wealthy estates. Further plans to restore more of the subterranean maze of tunnels, as of yet still undiscovered by most, as the city continued to grow and connect even the commoner buildings as well. This ambitious plan had been put on hold while the Sewage treatment building was being rebuilt for the third time, leaving the sewers themselves empty and forgotten by respectable society.

To say the stench of the sewers assaulted Geralts unfortunately heightened sense of smell was an understatement; excrement from both man, beast, and who knew what else, sloshed around his feet with every step. The three of them, Red, Jaskier, and himself, moved in silence through the sewers with only the sound of what could be generously called water rippling against the walls to accompany them. They hadn't brought a torch with them so they were left in the all encompassing darkness, so complete that even when dilating his pupils to their fullest Geralt struggled to see. From the back of their procession Geralt could see irregular flashing of dull ruby light fighting to fill even the shallowest of shadows, barely able to outline Red and Jaskier ahead of him. Geralt wondered if Jaskier's eyes could even see it. Choosing to instead rely on touch to guide him, he pressed a hand to the wet stone on his right. He was aware of Jaskier a few steps ahead of him being led by the hand by Red, but he could also hear the subtle sound of a hand trailing against the wall. Despite the dark, despite the silence, Red lead them with all the confidence of someone who could see without any trouble. The illusion would have worked if not for her stumbling steps dragging and hitting against the stones hidden in the murky water. Geralt was certain Red was using her weapon to lead them all but as to how he wasn't sure.

A scream came whispering from the shadows.

Geralt came to a halt and tried to turn his ear towards the noise but all he heard was Jaskier bumping into Red.

"What was that?" Jaskiers whisper was painful after the silence, and was quickly answered by another hushed scream. "There it is again."

Geralt could see the flashing light from Reds weapon pooling into the dark ripples of the water.

"How safe are these sewers?" Geralt had already placed a hand upon the iron sword at his back.

"Fairly safe." Jaskier answered over his shoulder. "Mostly...somewhat."

"Jaskier." Geralts growl reverberated around them.

"They are! We wouldn't use them if they weren't. Quiet too ever since the treatment building blew up again. But...sometimes people do report that there's something down here."

"What sort of something?" Already Geralt was running through his mental library of possible suspects both man and beast who would find such a place homely.

"I don't know. Something big and horrible with tentacles. Monsters are your area of expertise, remember?"

"I need to know what the damn thing is first."

Despite Jaskiers flippant remark it did give Geralt a few clues to the puzzle if he took his words at face value. Something 'big' that preferred the dark, at least semi-aquatic or enjoyed the water. Something with tentacles and, most importantly, could survive living in such a polluted environment. There were at least half a dozen creatures that came to mind but none he could say for certain without more information. The one thing that kept him from the hope that it was all nothing but stories was Yennefers tale of her own journey through the sewers and of the boy lost beneath.

There was nothing else to do but continue forward under the silence crashing upon them. Another scream, this time louder, and closer, bouncing and dancing giddy against the walls all around them. Geralt could hear Red and Jaskiers hearts trying to escape out of their chests. No one said a word as they continued onwards, each of them trained their ears to any further screams or noises rising up from the darkness. They moved passed yawning dark stone archways like yawning mouths, some still had their teeth of bent iron bars, some were blocked by the debris from decades of neglect, and the rest held only water and darkness.

"Wait. Over there." Jaskier stopped suddenly at a junction, and pointed down the tunnel. "Down there look, I think I see something."

Geralt moved closer to join him and turned his head to follow Jaskiers outstretched finger down the tunnel. Maddened wobbles of torchlight leaked around the corner at the far end. Red also joined them looking down at the flickering edges of torchlight. Geralt saw her turn to look at Jaskier, and then back towards their original path. He could see her taking the moment to weigh up their options trying to decide what was the best thing to do. Again came the weak flickering of crimson light from her weapon, Jaskier made no reaction, answering Geralts question from earlier, but Red did; she looked down at her weapon hiding her face from Geralts view.

"Should we go check it out? Or..." Jaskier looked to Red.

Geralt stayed quiet in the darkness behind the pair waiting for Reds decision in silence.

Red turned face them both again and nodded towards the light signalling their little group were set to detour to help. Geralt nodded with a small sound of acknowledgement and approval of her decision. It was far too soon to make any assumptions of the type of person she was. After such a long life, and much of it dealing with Sorcerers, Royals, people both of note and not he had learned it was just as dangerous to make any assumptions of either Humans or Monsters. But the Red Eye on her weapon reminded him of his doubts.

Geralt took the lead this time as the trio made their way towards the flickering light. Geralt could now hear the sounds of whimpering and muffled cries coming from the end of the corridor.

"I can hear something." He reported, whispering. "I think its a person."

He heard an affirmative sound from behind him. He turned to see Red on his heels with her ear trained in his direction. Now with some light he could properly see her face.

"You can hear it?" In surprise he came to a halt.

Red, just managing to stop herself from colliding into him looked up and nodded.

"I can't hear anything." Jasker added from over Reds shoulder.

Geralt looked at Red. While there was no true way to know if someone was lying, without magic at least, there were some common things one could look for that might suggest someone might be lying. Geralt could find none of the common tells when he looked at Red. He focused his hearing on her, on her heart drumming fast but at the steady rate of a Human who was understandably anxious. This meant she was either lying or she had exceptionally good hearing.

Another scream shattered the moment.

Jaskier nearly jumped out of his skin. "That I heard."

Red pushed at Geralt urging him to get moving again. Hurrying now without any care for the noise they made, they cashed through the water towards the screams of anguish coming from around the corner. With the moans of pain came also more voices muffled under fear, strained with panic. It took Geralt a few moments to realise what was being said and in what language; they were the whispering dulcet tones of Elder Tongue. Shadows were now evident across the flickering flames ahead of them, only the occasional limb moving across its light or someone leaning closer to give a sudden edge to the light being cast.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. Shh shh shh." A panicked voice in the Common Tongue scurried over the whimpering of another. "It's okay, it's okay. Sh sh sh."

"Don't worry, Alcken." Another voice chimed in, wavering between restrained hysteria "We'll just rest here for a bit and then-"

"Sh! Somethings here." A third voice then snapped across the others, prompting a sudden silence couple of sudden gasps.

Seven in all, if Geralt had heard right, but it was hard to tell over the sound of his own crashing footsteps. Even in the silence, strained breathing and whimpering could be heard that was then quickly muffled under something, either cloth or a hand he couldn't quite tell which.

"Hey, it's alright." Jaskier called. "We're here to help."

"Shut up!" The third voice, snapped back frantically in the Common Tongue in a loud whisper. The torchlight from around the corner flickered frantically as it grew. A man then appeared from around the corner holding a small lantern. "Keep your voices down. Hurry over, out of the water, quick! Before the Beast finds us."

The three of them, after a moment to look at one another for reassurance, followed the mans instructions and moved up onto the small embankment of mud, silt, and other materials. The man threw a quick glance to his left around the corner and in the dim light Geralt noted, as did Red with a small gasp, the top of his ears were flat and blackened; clear signs his ears had been docked. Geralt wondered if they had become necrotic but the smell of the sewers smothered everything else. The man's eyes, wide and fearful snapped back onto the three of them. A muffled groan from out of sight, around the corner to the right drew the man's eyes away again for an instant.

"You...it's you." The man looked between Red and Jaskier. "It's really you...after everything went wrong and the guards....we thought everyone had left without us. But Him, who's he?." The man demanded jabbing his chin at Geralt.

Before Geralt had a chance to speak, Jaskier had taken a step between them, letting go of Reds hand so he could hold up both of his hands to show he at least was unarmed.

"It's okay he's with us. He, he's a friend helping us get out of here."

"One of you is injured." Geralt stated, his voice harsh and rumbled in the little pocket of light. "How badly? I have some potions that might help."

The man, his eyes snapped back towards Geralt with a renewed light of fear tinged with only the faintest of hope. He swallowed. His eyes jumped between the three of them and lingered again on the weapons at Geralt had upon his person. The man took a half step back from them all as he visibly fought silently with his own thoughts and fears.

"Alcken, his arm...his leg..." The man shook his voice from his throat. "...we were attacked by something I..I...please. He's just a boy" The man took a final step back and limply gestured them to around the corner.

Taking the cue, Geralt moved first with the other two following behind him around the corner. There six other Elves, as he had guessed, huddled together near the wall and he could hear their hearts beating frantically but in the distinctly Elvish way. What greeted Geralt made him pause; a young boy, barely a teenager, lay upon a makeshift blanket of cloaks and rags.

The poor child's right side had taken a beating by something. His right leg was almost completely exposed, the trouser leg tattered, and stained a dark-red from mixture of blood and mud coating it. Even the rudimentary splint desperately cobbled together with sticks and cloth couldn't hide the damage to the now mangled leg bruised and swollen to almost three times the size of its other and missing the foot. The right arm had only just fared slightly better with the only obvious damage being to the hand held close and crumbled to the boys chest but Geralt couldn't get the best view at that moment. Strangely, the boy was human. He kept muttering between the cries and groans of pain "I'm sorry".

The woman cradling her boys head in her lap looked up at Geralt, a flash of fear, and then looked past to the man, maybe her husband?

"Lorirvim!" Her whisper scrapping the walls. In Elder Tongue she continued. "who are these people? These humans?"

"They say they can help, Anlyth. They have potions."

The woman, Anlyth, said a word Geralt didn't know. Jaskier however winced. The woman's gaze was drawn to him and her eyes narrowed and then widened.

"You two..." She repeated again in the Common Tongue. "You two...you're the Sandpiper, and the Pheonix, aren't you? What...what happened?." The boy in her lap squirmed and and tried to hold back a cry as another spasm of pain wracked his battered body. She quickly focused on trying to calm him even as her own voice cracked under the strain before she then explained, "They came for us. The Guards. His parents were hiding us when the warning came but..." Whatever else the woman had to say then caught in her throat and she shook her head, not daring to let them out in case they became real.

Geralt could hear the boys heart fluttering beneath the ragged breathes, and even below his own teeth grinding against each other.

Red brushed past him and knelt down by the woman and the boy.

"Please. Help him." Anlyth pleaded, crumbled. "Please. You're a mage, please, please, please, there must be something you can do? He's just a boy, he did nothing wrong."

Red looked between the woman and the boy and sadly shook her head, prompting the woman to instead look up at Geralt. Tears in her eyes.

Geralt then came forward uttering only, "move" to Red urging her out of his way so he could kneel beside the boy and better assess his wounds. It was just as bad as he had thought. He could feel the heat coming from the boys body even through all the mud and crime caking the poor child. Gingerly he lay his fingers on the boys leg trying to move the mud out of the way only drag anther grim cry from the poor child.

Behind him, Geralt could hear Jaskier talking to the man who had let them in. The man was pleading with Jaskier for any help either he or Red could offer, any safe haven, any word on the what had caused all of this, or anything further from someone named Falcon.

"Some are saying it was you!." One of the others grabbed Jaskier, his voice rose in its harsh whisper and bounced around them. "It was you who sold us out to them, told them where we all were."

"Sir I promise you, I promise you." Jaskier pleaded. Geralt had heard his heart skip at the mans accusation. "I told them nothing. We all knew this day might arrive it was only a matter of time. But We're going to get you all out of here alive, do you hear me?"

Geralt pulled his focus back to the boy before him and to the most pressing matter at hand. "We need to get him out of here. It's likely an infection will have already taken hold so we don't have much time."

"You say we need to move him?" The woman cradling the boy said.

Geralt nodded and set down his bag beside him. In the flickering light he opened it and the secured weapons glittered gold in the flickering torch light as he began pulling out small vials and rolls of fabric from the myriad of pockets between. The woman followed his hands with her mouth slowly opening and closing before she found her voice as a strained, desperate whisper.

"How...how can we move him?" Her hand was absently wiping away sweat drenched strands of hair out of the boys face even as another fit of pain consumed him. "Hush, hush now Alcken dear, I know I know. What is this? Leaves?" She gingerly took the small bunch of leaves Geralt held towards her.

"Chew them up and give them to him. It will help with the pain. Make sure he eats it, all of it."

The woman did as she was told and grimaced at the bitter taste of the herbs. Geralt turned his attention back to the boys wounds.

The most pressing issue were the blood soaked rags wrapped around what may have once been an ankle. He tentatively peeled away the wrappings, the child groaned in protest, to reveal the grizzly remains of torn ligaments, flesh, and even bone, the foot had been removed from just above the ankle and just above that was a length of rope tightly knotted. The leg had previously been cleaned and underneath a thin layer of now drying blood Geralt could see rings of punctured flesh travelling all the way up the limb. With the leg propped up on his lap, he ripped a small length of bandage from a roll in his bag and selected a small vial. The dark liquid within sloshed in it's prison and when he pulled out the cork with his teeth there came a bitter smell.

"You have potions?"

With the bandage pressed to the lip of the vial he quickly flipped it thrice. He shook his head, dashing the hope in the woman's voice. "Swallow. Its a potion which can restore some vitality and help wounds heal faster. But its toxic to Humans, even Elves, if ingested. Even us Witchers have to be careful." Geralt began gently pressing the crimson bandage against the wound, dabbing away at the blood oozing from it. "But." He explained over the child's smothered cries. "It is a very good disinfectant, and helps to stop bleeding when applied to a wound like so. Not as potent as other treatments I know of but it is all I have." He discarded the used bandage and repeated the process with a fresh one. Once completed he took the rest of bandage roll and wound it tightly around the stump. Blood was still slowly colouring the bandage but only in small spots.

Geralt didn't dare do more to the knee than re-secure the rudimentary splints. He wondered if the child would ever be able to walk again, and he saw the same worry reflected in the woman's eyes.

The boys right hand was blissfully in decent shape, more of those circular woulds had ripped strips off skin away but thankfully no further wounds and any bleeding had already stopped on its own. The worst was the ring and pinkie finger were broken but luckily not enough to break the skin. Geralt felt his stomach twist when the child began to scream through clenched teeth while he straightened and tied the fingers to a stick.

"Thank you." The woman stroked the Alckens cheek. The boy placated under the numbing herbs now seemed blissfully calm and quite despite his injuries. "Now at least we may be able to move him."

Before Geralt had a chance to speak there came a quiet clearing of the throat to his left. Red stood above them all with her weapon in hand. Its Eye stared down at them. Geralt clenched his hand against the sudden itching of his wound.

Red then let go of her weapon. It refused to fall. A series of gasps bounced off the walls. Geralt was then stunned when Red giving a small embarrassed smile at this display of magic. With a small wave of her hand directed the weapon to slowly turn until it lay horizontal in the air. The weapon came gently to rest beside the boy, who was just as tall at it was long. Squatting down she pointed towards the young boy and then to the sword.

She meant for them to lay the boy on the weapon.

"No." The walls echoed Geralts barked reply. He then repeated much quieter. "No. If there is something here you need to be able to fight." He had seen on the way in how the Elves were armed with only a few daggers and sharpened sticks between them all.

After a moments pause Red nodded and picked up the Weapon though the slight frown suggested she wasn't entirely convinced by his argument.

"But how are we supposed to get him out of here. He can't walk like this."

"I have some rope we can use to fashion into a carrier. How much further have we to go?"

The last part he directed at Red as he already began pulling length of rope from his bag.

In the flickering torchlight he saw Red hold up five fingers. A few guesses later they established it was five more miles left to go. Blessedly the end wasn't too far away.

The group resumed their journey after a bit of time cobbling together a carrier for the boy from salvaged lengths of wood, pieces of cloth, and even the scabbards of Geralts great swords. Four of the Elves carried the boy between them with the other three carrying the bags containing the groups meagre belongings. Together they sloshed and trudged their way through the sewers with Red at the front, lantern and weapon in hand, leading them all onward through the darkness. Another Torch had been fashioned together for one of those in the middle of the group to carry filling the rank air around them with a smell of foul smoke. Geralt had re-taken his position at the rear of the group with his Steel sword in hand. Jaskier meanwhile held Geralts Iron sword, as he hopped back and forth along the line talking to the few who had enough energy to converse, while the others simply listened to him trying to spin reassuring tales of where they could go after or little lies like, "not much further now.", "Just around the corner.", "I can already smell the fresh air, can't you?". It was as irritating as it was kind. And yet for all his jumping back and forth Jaskier almost pointedly did not engage with Geralt.

Suddenly, there was a shout from ahead. The train of bodies came to a juddering halt and then began pushing back against him, crashing on toes with cries of fright and confusion. From the other end Geralt heard someone cry, "Its the monster!" which was quickly quietened by another hissing, "Do shut up! Don't be stupid."

"Get behind me." Geralt pushed his way past and glad to find a distinct lack of monsters, so far.

Several steps ahead of the group was Red standing at archway stretching to hold the lantern out into the yawning abyss of the room beyond. The archway was just too narrow for them to stand side by side so Geralt had to look over Reds shoulder to the large empty room ahead of them. He could see they had arrived at a large room, a crossroads of sorts, where on either side, the rotten teeth of rusted iron bars hung from the wider tunnels to their left and right, and then another archway directly ahead. The sound of ripples smacking against the forgotten brickwork seemed infinitely louder in the terrified silence that had now fallen. The water lapping at their shins hid everything beneath its surface.

"Which way?" Even at a whisper his voice rumbled around them. Red simply gestured with her weapon to the arch way in front of them. He grunt, and asked. "Did you see something?"

Red looked at him for a second before turning her attention back to the water. She shook her head. She raised her leg and gave her shin a quick tap with her weapon. Geralt could see the Eye of her weapon flashing softly.

"Did something grab you? No, but you felt something? I see." He had had several ideas of what this 'Monster' could be, but given the utter stench and amount of refuse in the sewers it left only one clear possibility. "I think we are dealing with a Zeugl." This suggestion earned him a blank stare. He moved passed her into the room as he began to describe the beast, "Horrid bastard creatures which live in and off filth. Their hides are a formidable defensive against blades whether Iron or Steel." He continued moving forwards, sliding his feet across the floor under the black abyss of water until the floor vanished beneath his toes; he had found a ledge about half way into the room.

When the light shifted, Geralt turned to see Red beside him. She pointed at the water in-front of them, beyond the edge he had felt with his toes, and then moved her hands apart vertically then shook her head; too deep.

"Do you know how wide?"

Red nodded and handed him the lantern. He watched her take a few steps back before taking a running leap to the otherside where she landed unsteadily with her free arm flailing. Geralt watched as Red, with a quick yelp, slipped under the under the water only for her to just as quickly resurface gasping and spitting like a drowned rat. She didn't appear to be in any danger, quickly finding and climbing back up onto the ledge she had just slipped off of. He watched with a mix of amusement and frustration when she turned to him and threw out her arms.

"Ah aah!" Red spat.

If the Zeugl didn't know where they were before it sure as hell did now. Looking at the space between them he estimated it to be barely more than meter, possibly two. If it hadn't been for the water slowing her down he guessed that Red would have made the jump more easily.

"Red? Geralt?" Jaskiers voice came to hem from behind.

"We're fine. Theres a...a gap, we're trying to find a way across." Geralt explained over his shoulder, and then back to addressing Red. "Is there another way over?" He asked, already following the edge towards the left side of the room. Lifting the Lantern ahead of him to see if he could spot anything down the other tunnel beyond the iron bars.

The came a "uh huh" noise, and when he turned he saw Red with one finger held up, while gingerly stepping forward with one leg ahead of her apparently trying to feel for something beneath the waters surface.

Red disappeared under the water with a yelp.

Geralt swore loudly. "Jaskier!" He shouted and ran over towards where she had vanished only to see the dying ripples where Red had been seconds before on the opposite side. Behind him he could hear renewed cries of fright as the light was thrown wildly. Gripping the great sword he watched the water around where Red had disappeared. Maddened ripples and waves came crashing from behind.

"Red!" Jaskiers scream cut past the others. "Where is she? Red!?"

"Stay back." Geralts eyes frantically scoured the water for a sign.

Water at the entrance of the right hand tunnel began to thrash. Like a buoy in a storm, Reds weapon breached the surface then just as quickly vanished again beneath the waves.

"Over there!" Jaskier cried, already dashing over to the tunnel with torch in one hand and Geralts Sword flailing in the other.

"Jaskier, Don't! Theres a ledge!" Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the arm, dropping the lantern, before the man ran off the ledge.

Darkness closed in on them held back only by Jaskiers floundering torchlight. There was a brilliant flash of light beneath the water with a dull 'fwoosh', followed by a second, then a third. Geralt, barely aware of Jaskiers own cries of surprise, suddenly found himself almost blind and stumbled backwards as red and purple spots filled his vision. He focused instead on his ears, securing his grip upon his sword with both hands, listening to the waves crashing and echoing all around him, mixing with confused and terrified screams from behind. Beneath it all he heard a mighty gasp and renewed frantic splashing.

"Red!" Jaskier cried over the sound of wet hacking and coughing. "Dammit Geralt, give me a hand here."

Blinking hard Geralt managed to find, then hook his hand under Reds arm and drag her out of the water. Miraculously, she hadn't lost hold of her weapon. Amidst Jaskiers frantic questions and her own wet coughs bringing up more water, Red managed to drive them all backwards away from the gap. A large tentacle came leapt out from the water and swatted at the air where they had stood.

Red continued a pace beyond them before turning on her heel, then planting the weapons dip into the water. The Red Eye blazed, a white beam of light shot like an arrow from the Eye jewel between Geralt and Jaskier down into the water, leaving small hexagons floating in the air along its path. The water heaved and surged. A squealing gurgling form, its flesh flashing crimson and white in the torchlight, was ripped up from the depths of the abyss, pulled towards them along the lights path and smashing through the hexagons.

Geralt and Jaskier sprang apart to avoid the flailing, screaming form. Geralt then leapt forward, sword pointed at the creature and drove it into the creature with a cry. On the other side of the creature, he saw torchlight flail wildly in time with Jaskier own panicking cries of attack. The creature, under assault from all three of them, squirmed for only a few more seconds before falling quite and still as t last flash of crimson over its body faded to a dull grey. All that was left was the sound of the three of them panting as they each looked to one another over creatures form.

"The hells is this?" Jaskier panted and gave it a further cautionary stab.

Now that Jaskier had stopped waving the torch around like a madman, Geralt finally had a chance to look at the creature properly. He stepped back and the moved around to stand next to Red in front of the creature, where he gave a simple grunt of surprise. It wasn't a Zeugl like he had first suspected; the body was too long, and there were too many tentacles all ending in flattened tips rather than the spiked clubs he had been expecting. There were large bulbous eyes stared unseeing up at him from either side of its body, and two wing-like fins protruded from the top of it. A Zeugl, as he knew it, would generally only have a few tentacles, but multiple rows of teeth and a fish like head upon a bulbous body as shapely as a sack of potatos. It took him a moment to recognise the creature but it looked...wrong, misshapen and smaller than others of its kind he had seen in the many books he had read as a child.

"A kraken." Geralt answered, using his sword to lift one of the tentacles closest and revealing a twisted but no less intimidating beak beneath. "It's a kraken but too misshapen to say for certain what kind. Those wings at the top should extend all the way down. And this ridge along the middle, here, should be a lot more prominent for one of this size. Perhaps it was washed in here as a spawn during a flood from the sea."

He then heard a snort and a chuckle from Red. She stood there sopping wet and covered in gods knew what, chuckling to herself. He noticed the jewel of her weapon flashing again, and she seemed to only chuckle more and then a laugh slipped out between her fingers covering her mouth. This was promptly followed by all the water she had accidentally swallowed.

Thankfully, after Geralt and Jaskier retrieved the refugees who had fled someways back down the tunnel, Red was able to find a plank of wood carefully weighed down by bricks in the corner of the room to use to cross the abyss. Despite the ordeal Red only suffered a tear to her trousers and a few cuts to her leg, which Geralt promptly cleaned in the same way he had done for Alcken but resolved to clean them again once they were out of the sewers.

The rest of the journey was thankfully short and uneventful in comparison. While the water continued to rise as they travelled this was without the worry of the Monster, with its corpse now resting forgotten behind them, and markedly clearer with every step. Occasionally a breeze would come carrying fresh air which they would all greedily breathe in to strengthen their spirits. The water continued to rise, first above their knees, and then their hips. The walls became less maintained the further they went, but the water continued to become fresher, but worryingly colder. When the water rose to their stomach's Geralt handed his sword to someone else so he could carry two of the shorter refugees who were struggling.

"How much further?" Geralt called ahead even as his own teeth were now beginning to chatter.

"I don't bloody know!" Jaskier snapped. "Red?"

At the head of the train came Reds voice rising excitedly. From where he stood Geralt suddenly saw her appear past the Refugees, bouncing in the water which was now up to her chest, as she excitedly pointed past the corner. He then noticed he was able to narrow his pupils with the ambient light managing to find them across the waters surface.

"It's just past the corner, Witcher." Lorirvim, carrying one corner of the boys carrier on his shoulder explained as he and the other bearers surged ahead excitedly. "Then we can all get dry and warm again."

When Geralt turned the corner, Red accompanying him and the two Elves he still carried, light from an afternoon sun crashed into him. Dilating his pupils, Geralt was able see Jaskier at the end of the tunnel holding leaves and wood up out of the way to welcome them all back into the outside world. Relief washed over them all, and renewed strength invigorated Geralts passengers enough for them to make their own way forward. After ducking under Jaskiers arms Geralt waded out from the tunnel, greedily breathing in the crisp fresh air that felt refreshingly cold in his lungs after the smell of the sewers.

They had emerged out into a small pond with a small bank, the refugees had already gone onto to tend to the boy and wring out the worst of the water from them selves, all enclosed by tall trees of weeping willows and birch. Geralt nodded in appreciation of the location and the privacy it offered. A rustling of leaves from behind drew his attention to see Jaskier and Red also wading towards him, towards the bank ahead, and the tunnel now completely obscured and hidden from view.

They had made it, he realised, they had made it all safely out of Oxenfurt.